Play Fair
by johns-in-makeup
Summary: Sure his GF bawls at the mention of death, and his nitwit brother is scared to death of prawns,- dead or alive- but Inuyasha Miyazaki considers himself a normal person who believes in reasons. In fact, he only started to doubt himself when he met Jakotsu.
1. Prologue: Steel Train Road

_**Full Summary:**_ Inuyasha Miyazaki has always fancied himself a normal person with a normal girlfriend and family. Sure, his girlfriend bawls when anything death-related is mentioned, and his jackass older brother is scared to death of prawns (dead or alive), but everyone has their reasons- and Inuyasha Miyazaki has come to believe in the power of reasons. But when he met Jakotsu Himekawa, the Great Defiler of Human Laws, the Boy Without Purpose,- well, that's when the confusion started.

_**A/N:**_ I noticed that there're almost no JakotsuXInuyasha fan fictions out there…that

kinda sucks. So, I guess that's what drove me most to write this. Although, it's

not really gonna be the whole romancy-ooh-I-love-you kind of sap thing. This

story's actually pretty good, and now I figure I'm not gonna ruin it with pointless

clichés and sentimental bullshit, because it's not how this is gonna be.

**_DISCLAIMER: _**I don't own Inuyasha or anything Inuyasha-related (come on, Rumiko Takashi created the series- do you think she'd want to waste her time torturing herself with another Inuyasha-related story?). HOWEVER (however- however- however), _**all the stories I write and post are mine.**_ Seriously man. Dun & with my stories, man, oh I's gun be all up on ya'll wid mah gangsta gun en stuff. Actually no.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

_Prologue- Steel Train Road_

"You've got a lotta gall," I growl to a certain black-haired freak walking ahead of me, staring at him with all the hate I figure could be mustered up into one stare-down. He bites further into the stupid pink-and-sky-blue pencil I'd bought and has been holding onto this _whole time_, with those teeth- those horrible, short, straight, not-so-white-but-just-enough teeth. Teeth I know only too well. And he's grinning- like he's _the shit._

Name of nemesis? Himekawa, Jakotsu. Physical description? About five feet, eight inches, black hair- Casper-like pale skin. It's so pale it's translucent. I'm serious.

"Oh, Yashie," he says, lightheartedly, "you're just annoyed now. It's not that bad- you'll learn to love me." He winks.

Do I need to go into how much this guy _annoys _me?

"_Oh_, I don't _think _so," I reply, running up to him. I'm still trying to pry the gum out of my hair- I feel sticky and dirty. I cover my nose a little- he smells _overpoweringly _like Coke and whiteout. It's from the fight we had earlier- I'm still recovering, but he's probably forgotten all about it by now.

He looks back at me, all bleeding eyeliner and whiteout "warrior makeup" and messed up hair and this _huge _fucking grin that I hate, and it's all over for him. I could punch him right now. I could _kill _him. I could rip out his guts and put 'em in a bowl, fry 'em, and sauté them with the nastiest, raunchiest horseradish I can find. Or I can make myself mini in order to go inside his body (not the sick way- _definitely _not the sick way) and clog his arteries with Original Flavor Bazooka Bubble Gum that I will buy from a CVS employee named Kouga Kurasama- what goes around, comes around. And in this case, it's going to come around from _me_. What he did to me will _never _be forgotten.

"Well, what're you gonna do to punish me, Yasha?" he asks suggestively.

Do I _really _need to go into how much this guy _annoys _me?

"I'm just gonna abandon you! I'm gonna go back to my _girlfriend_, right now!" I scream. I don't really care that half the city is staring at us- me covered in pink goo, him drenched in soda and paint. A little girl points. I turn around to her and give her a raspberry. Little bitch. She runs away, freaked out.

"Aww, no, Yashie!" he wails, jumping back to me. Before I can whip out my really gangster-fly mini-stapler that I also bought today and attack him with it, or even scream for help, _any _kind of help, oh Good _God, _Sweet _Lord_, help me, he's clinging onto me, cheek pressed against my back, arms around my chest, wailing like mad _Hell. _"Please don't! I don't want anyone to have you but me! I mean, I'm not gonna stop bothering you, but please don't go, Yasha!"

"Alright! Alright!" I say, shaking him off me like a bad disease. "I won't go! I never will! Just _leave. Me. The Hell. ALONE!"_

He crashes to the floor in a heap of twisted limbs, like the clumsy fool bastard he is. He looks at me and gets all starry-eyed. "You mean it, Yasha? You'll never leave?"

"No! Just shut up! I won't go if you _just _shut _up_!" I say. Good Lord. Now I'm _pleading _with him. This scene should be all backwards. This scene shouldn't even be _happening_. But it is. It's backwards, and happening, yes, Miyazaki Inuyasha, it's happening and it is goddamn _real. _

Jakotsu smiles, gently, a real smile. Something sincere- the first in days. Getting up, he says, "Oh, Yasha, you're the best ever," like he's _really _believing me. And, I know I don't want to believe it, but he _does _believe me- always has, and I don't reckon he'll ever stop. He pauses, not knowing what to do next, just standing there.

"_Whaaat_?" I ask.

He looks at me for a while. He's not smiling now- he doesn't really have an expression. He's just staring at me with those huge gray eyes. And he giggles. And then his giggle deepens into a cackle, and he cocks his head back, laughing with his mouth _wide _open like some kind of _lunatic. _I put my head down and shield it with my hand. God, if _anyone _recognizes me with this _maniac _in tow, I might as well tell W6.7 FMmy name, swim to Cuba, and tell Castro I'm capitalist. He's just _laughing_, loudly, obnoxiously, _hysterically_, and is now outstretching his arms like an airplane. He twirls around. He's still laughing, so loud now that people are _literally _coming _out _of stores (the small deli-type store; but I figure that he'll be attracting crowds from _Iowa _in a matter of moments, the way he's getting loud) to see the insane homo who's causing all the ruckus. The laugh builds and builds higher and higher and now I'm not even making an _attempt _to hide myself from society, I'm just _staring, _because I don't _fucking _believe how he can keep this up. Arms outstretched like he's flying, he twirls around in a perfect 360 degree circle. Himekawa Jakotsu is the only completely free person I know.

"Come on. Stop that. You're gonna break it even more than you already did," I grumble, referring to my pink I-pod that he has now tied securely around his shoulder and under his arm. The screen's cracked and a small chunk of it has been cut off, revealing some metal chippy stuff that I don't know about. To tie it around his shoulder, he's used the earphone wire, which is breaking at the ends. In fact, looking closer at it, one of the earbud things is also gone.

He looks at me and smiles. "Oh, Yasha! Look at me! Let go, Yasha! Let's just be free!"

"Yeah yeah," I mutter. "Cut it out. We gotta get home somehow…I'm _not _gonna twirl around like some fairy ballerina, so shove _that _idea right up your ass. Now come on."

"Okay, Yasha!" he says, catching up to me. I'm walking ahead. The city we're in is foreign.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"Five to ten," he says.

I sigh, and look at the blue sky way up ahead of me. It'll be a miracle if I ever get this stuff out of my hair. Actually, it'll be a miracle if I can get my driver's license back. And, come to think of it, it'll be a miracle if Jakotsu ever leaves me alone.

It'll be a miracle id I ever get home.

What?

You ingrate! You bastard! What the hell kind of question is _that_! You asshole!

I go through the _shit _of _explaining _all this and only _now _you ask me this!

Alright, so now you wanna know how this all _began_?

Well, buckle your fucking seatbelts, kiddies- it's a _long _way to Hell.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

**_A/N:_** Wow that was gay. And confusing. ButI thought it was pretty good.Oh well! Will continue later. Bye, lovers. Review if you're kind enough.


	2. Part One: People's Parties, Chapter One

_A/N:_ Ah JESUS! I'm on a roll. Okay I've got nothing to say. Nothing interesting…read on if you're so inclined.

_>>>>>>>>>>>_

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

_Chapter One_

It was a normal day the day I had to drive up to the psychiatrist, a perfectly fine Monday the fourth in October. Actually, the weather was kinda cruddy- raining, hot, and sticky. Disgusting weather. But, I had to go there- I'd promised, after all. I muttered a very inappropriate promise under my breath as I pulled into the small parking lot. There weren't many cars- a blue Volvo and two silver cars, I think a BMW and a Toyota. My car was much different, by which I mean really crappy and banged up. I'd been in eighteen accidents in one month, all in this car- a shiny, dented, gray-blue minivan with a crucifix hanging on the rearview mirror and a long, web-like crack on the windshield, running from the upper-right corner. And it was just my luck that all I'd crashed into were inanimate objects- otherwise this car'd be gone. The police were just pretty dumb in keeping track of underage drivers, I figured. But I digress.

I parked the car in some parking space- don't tell me you expect me to remember the _exact _parking space. Because, in actuality, I really don't care what the # you want right now. I got out and locked the door.

The Loon House, as it's popularly called, was a one-story building built with beige bricks and some kind of cement-like base. Pretty boring building. The garbage cans and benches and flowers outside all were screaming of the blandest colors, just to add to the effect that you were really the one going out of your mind. I think they make crazy houses like that so you'll think you're insane and they get more money- everything around you is so calm and bland and you realize that you're just this huge bundle of disorganized and imbalanced chemicals that wants to_ scream _just to make sure there's _noise _in the building. But most people hold _in _the scream, building up anger inside of them so they _finally _believe they need to go to therapy. There was no roof. I get by.

Straightening my jeans and shirt, I pushed open the heavy glass door and walked inside. The interior…was even more sterile looking than the exterior. The carpet was- of course- _beige_, and the walls were the white stucco swirly type. The chairs were cheap metal, probably aluminum, with gray cushions. There was a fake wood table smack in the middle of the room, which held onto a stack of broken-up People magazines. A couple of decorations lay around- paintings of whales and rainbows (not together, of course- if whales and rainbows lived together, I'd lose my mind), carnations in a big blue vase. Nothing special.

I walked up to the woman behind the front desk. "Uhmm, Ma'am?"

She didn't look up from her papers. I grimaced. Front-desk-ladies are _not _on my lists of favorites. "Ma'am?" This time I put more urgency into my voice. She just clawed at the papers with her fake acrylic nails.

"MA'AM."

The woman looked up, looked me over, and rolled her eyes. "_Yes_?" she asked, agitated that I'd kept her from the only thing in her work that occupied her.

I bit my tongue and tried my _hardest _to refrain from saying anything that would give the loonies in this building spasms. I stared at her for a minute, though, noting the big, dry beehive hair and the crusty, greasy lip coating on those fish-like puckers. After I was sure I got my point across, I snorted. "Can I get the schedule for a Miss Kagome Higurashi?"

"Who wants to know?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

Blood was coming into my mouth now from biting my tongue too hard. "Her _boyfriend_. Inuyasha _Miyazaki._"

She paused and shrugged. "One minute Sir," she breathed, _far _too _exhausted _from sorting _all those _heavy, HUGE _papers_ to _deal _with the likes of some stupid delinquent kid. Looking in the shiny reflection of the metal countertop of the desk, I had to admit it- I guess I _do _look like a delinquent. I have long, white hair that runs past my back and a tendency to scowl. I'm pretty good-looking, but there's a few people I _do not _like to hear that from.

I tapped my fingers for about three minutes while the stupid dyke flipped through a dozen yellow and pink legal papers, going extra slow as to not break her nails. She finally turned back in the chair, reading from a blue paper. "Who was it again," she asked lackadaisically.

"Ka. Go. May. Hih. Gur. Ah. Shi," I pronounced. She grimaced.

"Kaaaagome Hiiiiguuurassshhiii…that would be…" She looked me over again, and seemed to get my point. "Her appointment ends at 4:15 PM."

I looked at my watch- I had about ten minutes to wait. I gave her a fake smile. "Thanks for nothing," I spat, and sat down on one of the chairs. An old man sat across from me, reading Home Improvement magazine with great interest.

Well, I guess you've gotta know _why _I was there. You see, my girlfriend,- Kagome Higurashi- despite all her perfection, is kind of broken down. She cries every time somebody mentions death and guns because she saw someone get shot and killed last summer. The following Fall, she had to go to therapy.

So.

Bored, I picked up an old issue of People magazine and started to glance over it. I pretended to read it. I soon noticed some movement from the corner of my eye- rhythmic, rapid movement, a kicking motion of some sort.

That movement was to be the biggest nuisance I knew.

Nonchalantly I looked up from my magazine in the direction of the movement. The person moving was a boy, my age. He was sitting in the oddest position I had ever seen- legs crossed, hands folded on his lap, looking up at the ceiling. He wasn't bad-looking- not at all. He had a wide sort of face with a small, sloping, pixie-like nose. His face dipped into a small, pointed chin. He had jet-black hair that was chin-length and wavy. His eyes were big and innocent and gray. He really looked like he had just woken up. He was kicking his denim-clad leg, rapidly, just looking up at the ceiling in total obliviousness.

"Can you stop that." The guy paused dead and looked at me, leg no longer kicking, blinking in confusion. No more movement. "Thanks," I huffed.

I turned back to People magazine and started to pretend the read again. But I couldn't- I could feel someone staring at me. In a frantic attempt to ignore it, I flipped through the magazine and made believe I was looking for something, further digging my nose into the glossy pages. Again through the corner of my eye I could feel some kind of movement- but not obvious movement. Discreet movement. It really didn't take long to notice the guy was staring at me.

"Hi," I said, bluntly, scowling all the while. It's one thing to flop around like a fish- it's another to _stare _at someone. I glared at him.

He smiled, pleasantly. "My name's Jakotsu." He had a weird kind of voice for a guy- feminine and sort of high-pitched, but you could tell he was a guy. And the tone of his skin was weird, too- pale. _Reeeeaaallly _pale.

"Yeah," I muttered. I looked away. This conversation was over.

But he didn't think so. "I'm in high school, kind of like you. Except you look kind of short. I have no talents and no life and I don't really wanna be anything when I grow up. The only thing I'd be good at is prostitution."

I looked back at him. I blinked, furrowing my eyebrows. "Uhh. Okay."

"You trying to ignore me?" he asked. "Because it's not working."

"No, I'm not _trying_. It comes naturally."

"You're funny."

"You're not laughing."

"I know. Actually," he said, squinting in my direction, "I like you. You're pretty cute." He winked.

I could _feel _my eye twitching. This guy was annoying, and a freak- an annoying freak. That's the worst combination. "Wha…whatever!" I exclaimed, frustrated. I grimaced and looked at the front page article.

He giggled. "You've got a really cute angry face. What's your name, cutie?"

"None of your business," I snapped.

"Oh, come on, don't be a prick," he urged. "I gave you my name- now I've gotta know yours."

"Actually, you _don't_!" I retorted. "And I'm not a prick!"

"I don't see why you just can't tell me your name," he said, rolling his eyes. "Why you've gotta make a whole big deal about it. Just tell me your name- you're required to."

"Who the _hell _decided _that_!" I exclaimed.

He thought for a minute. I smirked, figuring I finally defeated him. Feeling good about myself, I went back to my magazine, when he said:

"I decided. And you're the one who talked to me first, so it's kind of like being a guest in someone's house. You have to be courteous to me."

I growled from the back of my throat. This asshole- weird freak. He smiled at my anger. I don't know why he was smiling at it, but the more he smiled that weird, lopsided smile that made his mouth open a little bit at the corner, I got _pissed_. "I _DID NOT _talk to you first!"

"Yeah you did!" he said. "You said: 'Hi.' And it was really nice- because you've got the cutest voice, you know- it's gruff and kind of sexy."

"ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT!" I yelled. "PISS. OFF!" His eyes widened in some kind of surprise. I sighed in relief and looked up- to see the old man and the desk woman staring at me like I'd just broken a _commandment. _Great. Just great. I pissed off the loonies.

Just then, my savior walked out of a heavy oak door with a yellow-tinted window- a petite, black haired girl, with a light blue skirt and yellow shirt under a dark blue mini-jacket and rings of moisture around her eyes. Looking totally past the fact that she could be unstable at the moment, I jumped up from my seat and said, "Kagome!"

She looked at me and broke into a smile- and I felt bad at the sight of it. A tired smile, the corners of her lips pulling up just a little bit. "Hi…I knew you'd come. Shall we go now?"

"Yeah," I said, tossing the magazine back on the table.

"Oi! You're going!" the guy exclaimed, eyes widening. Like he was surprised I wasn't sticking around to listen to him flapping away.

I looked down at him, still sitting there, and smirked a little. "Hell yeah. I wouldn't stay in this hellhole for a second longer if they were selling ramen and funny-face balloons. Not with you, at least."

He pouted, sinking into his chair sulkily while crossing his arms. "Aww. I was hoping we could talk a little longer."

"That's exactly what I'm avoiding," I said, gathering up my jacket.

He smiled, pleasantly. "Oi. Oh well. Bye-bye, then."

"Inuyasha?" Kagome asked. "Are we going?"

The guy groaned. "You're straight, too?"

I walked as quickly as I could towards Kagome, taking her bye the arm and _dragging _her out. "Bye, Inuyasha!" I heard him call.

I gave him the finger as I opened the door and left.

"Who was _that_ guy?" Kagome asked, buckling in.

"Some weird homo," I replied. I paused uncomfortably, again noticing her moist eyelids and shaking hands. It was kind of tough for her…she'd always been the emotional type…I buckled in, and started to talk out of my ass. "How was your uhhhh thing?"

She sighed. I shifted the car into reverse and started to drive away. "It was fine. It's all a little tiring, but it's fine. How was your day?"

"Shitty," I said. I drove out Hell's asphalt harbor and onto the residential street that proceeded into town. "You wanna go eat or something?"

She sighed again. "Actually I just feel like going home because I'm really tired. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah," I grumbled. "It sure is…I'll drop you off home, then."

"Thanks," she replied. I turned left where I should have been turning right to go to McDonald's or something, but I had to drop Kagome off at her house because she was tired.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

_A/N:_ Hehe. Good chapter on my part…okay…Mu-ha.

_Disclaimer:_ Again, I don't own Inuyasha, but I own my stories. While I am not smart enough to make them into a best-selling anime cartoon series, I am smart enough to put a disclaimer on shit that's rightfully mine.


	3. Chapter Two

_A/N:_ Tch! You people suck! No reviews or anything. Gawd, you guys are mean. Gosh.

Haha.

Okay. On now! To the next chapter.

>>>>>>>>>>

_Chapter Two_

"Inuyasha."

I didn't look up from my book. Why should I? I was having some very good intellectual sex with myself right then, and I didn't want to be bothered.

"_Inuyasha_."

I covered my ears, muttering "bitch go away bitch…" I reclined on my white bed sheets, against the pillow, propping my book up on my knees.

"_INUYASHA!"_

I heard stomping down the hall. Feh. Let the bitch come, if that's what she wanted. I bent the corner of page 252 of _The Brothers Karamazov _and put it under my pillow, proceeding to lie down on my back, turned away from the door.

My mother burst through the door, clutching onto the knob. My mother was always a very pretty woman- long, dark brown hair and brown eyes. But she always looked tired. "Inuyasha, are you deaf?" she asked. "I need your help with something, sweetie."

I moaned a little, keeping up my act. She walked over to the bedside and shook me, gently. "Mmph?" I replied, getting up. I yawned. "Ma? What're ya wakin' me up for?"

Her eyes softened a little bit. She smiled and answered, "I need your help with something. I just need to lift some boxes in the basement."

"Why didn't you just call me," I grumbled, sitting up.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't know you were asleep."

I stretched my arms over my head. I had been through this act many times before, and I was a pro at it. I'd mastered it like I'd mastered everything else I set out to accomplish. I jumped out of bed and followed her into the basement.

Ever since school came around, my mother, Izayoi Miyazaki, had been _obsessed _with cleaning out the basement. No joke. And it wasn't a "whole house" sort of Spring Cleaning thing- it was just the basement. Nobody could figure out why, not even her. 'Fact, I don't see how _anyone _can want to even _touch _that awful wreckage. It's holy hell down there. It still is- mold everywhere, heavy air, puddles of rain leakage, and, since December I-Don't-Know-When, a HUGE, deformed gum stain and a 3-by-4 hole on the northern wall. And it's always dusty and stuff, and cleaning never helps, so I don't know why we even bother.

But it's my mom. And my mom is, well, my mom, so I guess I have to listen to her.

This time she wanted me to help her move all the blue-and-red bins of my old toys out of the storage area. I could oblige to this- it wasn't that much work, after all, and lifting the stuff was pretty easy, save one or two boxes of Lego's or Hotwheels and Matchbox cars. But there were only a couple. Sesshoumaru had never really had the soul to play with toys when he was a kid, so all the stuff down in the basement was mostley mine.

"Inuyasha," she said, in that gentle, "let's-have-a-talk-but-not-a-hostile-one" kind of voice.

"What?" I asked, pushing a box of K-Nex onto my knee and lifting it onto my forearms. She paused. I grimaced and looked at her. "Well, spit it out, Ma. I haven't got all day y'know."

"I've been meaning to speak with you about your girlfriend, Kagome," she replied, lifting a basket of monkeys-in-barrels.

I rolled my eyes. "Look, Ma, she'll be fine. Stupid as she is, Kagome's strong. She can get through whatever. Where do you want me to put this?"

"Right outside the door is fine," she instructed. She followed me as I walked up the stairs, the K-Nex box rattling against the stone walls enclosing the narrow stairway. "No…it's not that. I wanted to ask you how- watch your step- serious you two are."

I could feel my face get hot- jeez. I had this tendency to turn red when I got embarrassed. I didn't know too many people who did that, just me and Kouga Kurasama, an idiot about whom I will explain to you later, as I am not in the mood to throw up all over myself (Jesus I sound like my brother). "Wha-what kinda que-question is that!" I sputtered, flying down the stairs.

"Inuyasha, I want to know because I want to know for both of you- I care about you two, I really do," she replied. "And I like Kagome. Girls aren't much nicer than Kagome. What I'm concerned about is if you two are rushing in too fast."

"Ma. I told you," I reminded her, getting some more boxes and heaving them upstairs. "Everything's fine. I'd dump her ass if _anything _was wrong."

She smiled and cupped my cheek with her hand. Her touch was light and her hand cold, making me flinch when she touched me- I didn't want her to feel how embarrassed I was. "Alright- that's good. I'm glad to hear you thinking so clearly. But if anything _does _happen, be nice about it- you have a tendency to be very brash, Inuyasha."

"Alright, I get it, Ma. Don't treat me like a baby. Jeez, Ma."

>>>>>>>>>>>

A couple of days passed by in which nothing that I'm really interested in telling you came by. Sure, I could tell you about how I went to the mall with my friends, or about how my older pest-brother went berserk because I borrowed his cologne, but I don't feel like it. I think it was maybe three, four days before then, I'm really not sure. But all I can tell you is that what came was not expected.

I had gotten up early that morning to make myself breakfast because I didn't want anyone to steal my French toast. Usually my brother will get up real early and be all like "You were not up early enough, Little Brother. I am taking your breakfast because of it. And because of that, I think I am cool. I think I am the shit and that I am quite gangster. I like to talk about myself in the third person. Sesshoumaru is eating." That's his name, Sesshoumaru. I can't think of a worse name at the moment. I'd like to tell you his name is Edgar or Peter or Taro, but it's Sesshoumaru. And I have to spell out all one, two…eleven letters in it. Heh. Must be why I'm so good at spelling.

I sighed to myself, making sure to heat the toast up quietly as to not disturb anyone and make them think thats there's a chance in hell that I'll make breakfast for them. I took the piece of bread and laid it gently down on the baking rack in the toaster oven, setting my watch for three minutes and setting the microwave on 360 degrees. At six fifteen in the morning, I tiptoed out of the kitchen, and then the phone rang. Loud. Excruciatingly loud.

I ran like _hell _to the living room and fumbled with the phone, dropping it about four times before whispering an agitated, "HELLO?" into the black mouthpeice.

"Hi this is Jakotsu Himekawa. I don't care who this is, unless you're Inuyasha…Miyazaki." His tone got excited. "Is it? Hello? _Hellloooo?_"

"Wha- how did you get my-" What was I doing! If he heard my voice, he'd recognize…Interrupting myself, I slammed the phone back in the cradle. The glass tabletop jaunted a little. I winced. Maybe he didn't recognize me- maybe he'd just go away forever and leave me alone.

The phone rang once again. I guess not. I narrowed my eyes at the black phone with extreme, irrational hate. I picked it up. "What! Hello!"

"Oh, it _is _you! It's my lucky day! Oh, happy day!" I didn't even have to _see _him to know he was jumping up and down with joy- that's how happy he sounded. "Uhh hi."

"_Why _are you calling me at _six _in the morning!" I hissed. "And _how _did you get my phone number!"

"It was kinda easy. I remembered your name and looked up every _In-u-yash-a _M. in the phone book-" The way he said my _name _irritated me- the slow, steady way he rolled the syllables like it was the greatest name in the world.

"The _'m'_, how'd you find out my last name began with an _'m'_?" I asked, impatiently.

He sighed. "I remembered you saying it to the front desk filth. But, anyway, I looked up every person with your name- _In-u-yash-a, _I _like _that name- and I've been calling all these people for three days. And I finally got _you_! Hurray!"

"You crazy…" I paused. Out of all the possible guys, in particular,_gay_ guys, this guy _had _to choose me. Not Kouga Kurasama. Not Miroku Conlan. Me. Inuyasha Miyazaki.

"Crazy _what_?" he asked.

I breathed into the phone, thinking of a word, but also trying not to sound angry. He seemed to be attracted to people with anguished emotions. "_Stalker_," I replied.

"Stalker? Yasha, don't-"

"Don't _call _me Yasha!" I screamed into the phone, this time louder than I should have. Not realizing that I could've woken someone up, I furthered the conversation by exclaiming, "My girlfriend calls me, Yasha, and you're _so _far from that! You crazy fucking lunatic!" I slammed the phone down.

And then heard a slight, sophisticated crunching on something crunchy.

And it smelled like my brother.

And my _toast._

I looked up. Yup, it was him- I could tell from the stoic features and the long bluish-white hair. And the way he was _smirking. _"Bastard," I growled.

"I find your attempts to conceal the fact that you were awake were quite futile," he said. He bit into _my toast_, syrup dripping onto the plate he held under it. I could've killed that lunatic- _he's _the one who caused me to start yelling and screaming. He held up the bitten piece of bread up so I could see it. "This is evidence."

"You son. Of. A. Bitch!" I snarled, lunging at him. No good- he stepped sideways and I flew into the stairwell.

"Too slow, Little Brother," Sesshoumaru replied. I winced at the name- "Little Brother." Like _he _was the _shit. _"However, you are quite a good cook. This toast is very good."

"You bitch," I muttered.

He shrugged. "Think of it whichever way you like. It's no concern of mine." He walked over, all sauntering with the aroma of fresh toast whiffing past me, and sat down on the couch, back straight, legs crossed. His features went from the rare mocking smirk to the usual emotionless. "However, the concern here is the _noise _you were making on the phone. My expectations of you are none other than the fact that you are an ignoble, brutish bigot, but I never expected you were so ignorant as to make such a racket while other people are sleeping."

That's sort of translated as, "Don't you ever fucking make that much of a fucking noise again or I'll beat the Holy Shit out of your ass." Or something to that effect. My brother Sesshoumaru thinks that using big words makes him look smart. But to me he looks like a bitch. "Oh, I'm _so _sorry, Prince Sesshoumaru, I'll _never _disrespect _you_ again," I muttered, putting on the TV and lowering the volume to ten. Not that I _wanted _to watch the TV, it was just my way of getting back at him. He _hates _TV- I smiled as he winced.

"See to it that you don't," he replied as I lay down on the opposite couch, remote in hand.

Some silence passed as I flipped the channels (and finally found something I wanted to watch- Texas Law on Court TV. Most retarded show ever. Miroku introduced me to it. Seriously, watch it. It's hysterical). He decided to speak up again, and, dipping his head in to bite _my _toast, said, "I suspect your phone conversation wasn't pleasant."

"Oh, ya _think_?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

He paused. "It's not a help with you and the Abominable _Wench-_" his loving nickname for my dear girlfriend- "arguing. It gets _your_ _Mother _into quite a fit. I'd suggest making amends with her, lest you should further irritate me."

That's really all my brother thinks about- _me me me_. And Rin. Rin is his girlfriend, who I like and personally don't think he deserves, but I shut up _once _in a while. _Once _in a while. "Why don't ya just shut your hole for one second and stop thinking about yourself and maybe we can make a little arrangement," I snapped. "Any soda around here?"

"It _certainly _wouldn't be in the kitchen," he replied, staring blankly at his empty plate.

I rolled my eyes. "Thank _you_, Ms. Bitch." I walked into the kitchen and, after deciding that I didn't like Sprite, settled for an Orange Crush and started to heat up some blueberry waffles. I walked back into the living room and put my Orange Crush on the table, again reclining on the couch.

"It couldn't have been your other runt friend," he said, referring to my best friend Miroku. I'll explain him when the time comes, that stupid perverted fatherless creep. Sesshoumaru'll never admit it but he likes Miroku, or just thinks he's okay. You can't really hate Miroku- I don't know, you just can't. "-As you two seem to be _quite _close, and the relationship with the person whom you were speaking with sounded likesomewhatless than a "good friends" relationship. Do you hate this person?"

"I'd say that what I feel for this…_person_…is the opposite of love?" I grumbled, opening my Orange Crush.

"Did you know, Little Brother, that the opposite of _love _is _indifference_?" he spat, curtly. I rolled my eyes. He didn't pay attention. "You should be more specific with your emotions, you imbosel."

"Well I'm _sorry_," I replied, flipping the channel again- I'd seen that episode already.

"I forgive you," he countered, getting up and "accidentally" tossing a pillow at me. "I _am _the patient sort. But don't let that get to your head."

I said a curse under my breath and threw another pillow at him, which he ducked.

>>>>>>>>>>>

_A/N:_ That chapter was kind of boring. Pffft. But whatever. At least Sesshoumaru was in it- and he's delicious enough to make anything exciting. Review, I guess.


	4. Chapter Three

_A/N:_ **Omg omg omg!** Hi. I was really excited today because I got my first review so yeah. It was really nice.

_**Review Responses**_

_ACTRIVI:_ Oh my Gawd, I know- I've checked almost every site and the Jakotsu/Inuyasha fics that are really good get discontinued all the time. Pout. But, aside from that, MUCHO thanks for the interview, love- yeah, it does suck being human. I hate eating. It makes me feel yucky. And thank you for saying it was good D.

>>>>>>>>>>>

_Chapter Three_

"When's Dad getting home, Ma?" I asked my mother, who was making fried chicken. Fried chicken is my favorite- I guess that's why she makes it. She could never really find out what Sesshoumaru's favorite is because she's scared of him.

She sighed as she rolled a chicken leg in bread crumbs. The chicken was still raw, but it still looked good. Sesshoumaru says that my stomach is as undignified as my brain. "Ah, I don't really know, sweetie. Give your mom a hand and stir those mashed potatoes?"

I groaned, getting a spoon out from the kitchenware cabinet directly right from the sink. "Can't _Sesshoumaru _do it?"

She laughed nervously and I turned around and saw the frightened look on her face- this fake, nervous, sad smile that made her wrinkles show. I hated it when those wrinkles showed. "Sweetie, Sesshoumaru is…busy. Just be a dear and help me, alright?"

That just proves my point that she's afraid of him.

I didn't push it any further. I grumbled and searched the refrigerator for butter. "Ma? Where's the butter?" I asked, slamming the fridge door shut.

"I already put some in, hun," she hummed, preoccupied with her chicken.

"You never put _enough _in," I snapped, raiding the fridge some more.

I could hear her tired sigh. I immediately felt guilt overtake me. "Check in the back of the fridge."

Now any normal kid would've hugged her to make her feel better- but Inuyasha Miyazaki is just not the hugging type. I just bluntly said, "It's not that bad, it's just that me and Dad like a lot of butter. Don't be all depressed about it. Jeez. We're just future diabetics."

"Thanks, Inu," she replied.

I opened my mouth, about to say "Whatever," when the phone rang again. I didn't suspect it was that lunatic, because it was some ten hours after he'd called last. But I suspected wrong. I went into the living room to pick it up. "Miyazaki place, Inuyasha speaking."

"Yasha!" came a fan girl squeal on the other end.

I groaned. "What do you _want _from me?" I asked, agitated. I knew it was _him_- Kagome is the only other one who calls me that, and, quite frankly, no one is really ever that excited to hear me. Aside from this guy, I mean.

He thought for a minute. "Well, first of, some really dirty, kinky sex-"

"Forget it," I snapped. "Why the hell are you calling me?"

"Why not? Let's talk," he said, gently. I rolled my eyes.

"No thanks, Ja…" I searched for the name. Jack? Jackie? James? "Whatever your name is," was my solution.

"Ja-kot-su," he replied. "Himekawa."

"I'm sure it is," I said. "Could you leave me alone for now? I gotta finish helping my mom cook-"

"Ooh, whatchya cookin'?" he asked, too interested for his own good.

I sighed, over-exaggeratedly and loudly. He didn't get offended. "Fried chicken. And mashed potatoes. I dunno. Redneck food." I sounded awkward talking to him about regular stuff. The only way I could talk to him and not sound awkward is when I was yelling at him, I'd found out from our brief conversations. He made me uncomfortable. But he'd stop bothering me sooner or later.

"Cooking is sexy," _Ja-kot-su_ said into the phone, like it was something he said every day, in that bored, preoccupied tone. Were he materialized in front of me, I would have smacked him. But, alas, he was too far away. So I got no violent satisfaction.

"Whatever."

"Cut yourself with something, okay?"

"What?"

"I dunno. I like blood."

With that comment, I realized that this guy was a freak. I swallowed silently. Okay, Inuyasha Miyazaki, get yourself out of this situation fast. Hang up the phone. Don't pick up next time. A real, genuine freak- not the normal kind of punk-freak. The real kind. "You're fucked-up in the head, you know that!" I cried, bluntly. "I gotta go. Don't call again, you freak! I mean it! I'll call the police next time you call me. I swear I will-"

"Aw, you're no fun," the other line said, all pouty-like. "Alright, Yashie, bye 'til next time."

"I am NOT your Yashie! And there will _be _no 'next time!'" I yelled into the phone.

"You're just shy," he replied cheerily. "Bye bye!"

Flustered, I muttered, "Whatever," and hung the phone up.

"Who was that, hunny?" my mom called from the kitchen.

I walked in. She was now frying string beans in the cast iron frying pan that my father had bought her for her last birthday. He said that people cook better with cast iron, even though it's really heavy. Something about minerals bringing out flavor. I dunno. "Just some person. It was the wrong number," I lied. I stood in the doorway. "Is there anything for me to do?"

"Nope," she answered, wiping her hands on a kitchen rag that hung on the stove handle. "I finished the mashed potatoes while you were on the phone. Thank you, sweetie."

I nodded. My mom acts kind of like Kagome, but they're different. My mom's actions are more subtle, her voice calmer and deeper. She has this way of moving around that's graceful and natural so it reminds you of a real mom. Kagome's voice is high-pitched and girly and feminine and so filled with love you can never expect anything bad from her.

>>>>>>>>>>>

"Kagome, which one do you want!"

"Ooh, I don't even know- all of these are so _cuuute_! I guess one of these two…"

"Oh my God, I agree, but I especially like the purple one. Choose the one you like best."

"I don't know, I can't decide," Kagome Higurashi, who, of course, can't decide, replied. She looked particularly pretty today- tight, dark blue jeans and a black tank top that said, "Tell Your Boyfriend to Stop Calling Me" on it in white letters, both of which Inuyasha Miyazaki would have liked to help her take off. Oh well. "Which do you say, Inuyasha?" she asked, holding up two _identical _blue cotton shirts with pink sashes tied somewhere around the waist.

"I say, 'Don't shove shit in my face,'" I grumbled, pushing them out of my view. "Besides, what's the difference? They look exactly the same to me."

"Oh, shut up Inuyasha, you stubborn brat!" Kagome snapped, loudly. Even though I _really _can't stand how annoying and womanly she could be, it was a good sign that she was yelling at me; that therapy had done wonders for her. A few months ago she wouldn't even say anything when I talked to her.

Sango, the girl beside her, herbest friend,laughed, her athletic shoulders shaking. "Kagome, he's just tired. You know Inuyasha. He doesn't shop too often."

"Well, he doesn't have to be such a moron about it," Kagome said, smiling a little bit. I snorted.

"Feh. Real nice way to treat someone, Kag," I said sulkily.

Kagome frowned, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, you can't complain! You treat people like that all the time!" I stuck my tongue out at her, and she returned the gesture with a raspberry.

"You two are so cute," Sango giggled as I wiped the spit off Kagome and tackled her against a store window. She sighed. "Makes me kind of wish Miroku was different…"

Kagome yanked my shirt collar and pushed me into a fake plant. "You and Miroku just have a different relationship with each other," she pointed out with an optimistic smile. "My therapist told me that people deal with each other differently according to how deep they are connected. At least you don't have to deal with a stubborn _pig_ all day!"

"Oh, I'll show you pig, you little-" The muffled sound of Green Day's _Warning_ came from someone's bag or purse or pocket. I reached into the cell phone holder on my back pocket, retrieving my cell phone and looking at the caller ID:

_Private_

_17185601294_

"Who is it?" Sango asked. "Is it Miroku! Because that shitface has been avoiding me ever since-"

"Can it, Sango," I replied, cautiously lifting the cover. It better not be who I thought it was…

"Yeah?"

"Hi," came the familiar voice on the other line. Shit. It is- was- him…I grunted. "Whassamatter? Not too happy to hear from me?"

"Quite frankly, no," I grumbled. "How the _Hell _did you get my cell phone number! What is _with _you! I thought I _told _you not to call me _again_!"

A giggle. I grated my teeth together. "_Well_, I called your house and you weren't picking up. So. I kept calling until your hot-sounding brother picked up, and then I asked where you were, and he gave me your cell number." He paused. "Soooo how are you?"

My teeth were going to shatter in a matter of seconds. My _"brother"…_That _bastard…_I'd _kill _him when I got home… "I'm with my _girlfriend._"

"Tch. Figures. Why do you hang around that kind of filth?"

I rolled my eyes. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about but I've gotta go bye-"

"Wait! Yasha!"

"Gotta go bye!" Clumsily, I hit the END button on the phone and stuffed it in its holder.

"Who was that?" Kagome asked.

"Kouga," I said. Jeez- lying _again. _I don't know why I didn't come out and just say, "That weird freak I met at _your _psychiatrist, ya fucked-up sentimental bitch." I should've. But I didn't. "He wants some uh homework."

Kagome frowned. "You shouldn't be so mean to Kouga. He might have a crush on me, but you shouldn't be so mean to him."

Sango nodded as we approached the food court, a round area decorated with flashy neon signs that were just _begging _for you to stop by and try some of their sickeningly perfect, greasy delicacies. "He's a nice guy, it's just-"

My phone rang again. As said before, I should have just not picked up. I have no explanation as to why I _did_ keep picking up. I guess I shouldn't really blame Jakotsu for everything that happened because I brought everything on myself.

I didn't even say "Hello" this time. I knew it was him.

"What do girls have that I don't?" he asked, to no one in particular. "I mean I'm better-looking than any girl and I'm nicer too. Like, it doesn't make sense that-"

I hung up the phone and turned it off, holding onto the END button for about half a minute before finally convincing myself that, yes, he would not call again because, yes, the power was off, and got it out of my sight. I smirked to myself- the first _really _good decision I'd made in days. Feeling really good about myself, I caught up to Kagome and Sango.

Before I opened my mouth to lie about who it really was, Kagome bonked me straight on the head.

"You've got some nerve, Inuyasha Miyazaki! To just hang up on someone like that! I should make you call back and apologize."

I sighed. Good- one less lie, one less thing to tell the priest.

>>>>>>>>>

_A/N:_ This chapter wasn't as good as the others, kind of rambling and boring. Uhmm,…the reason that there's not really any JakotsuXInuyasha action happening is 'cause I have to "foreshadow" Inuyasha's relationships with the other characters or something like that.

Listening to 40 Oz. To Freedom. Really, _really _good CD- seriously, it's great. Alright, tah-tah! Review, even if it's bad- I want to know your opinions. Seriously. No shitting. I love you guys (cough can anyone say "kiss ass?" haha cough).


	5. Chapter Four

_A/N:_ I really am on a roll today. And I am very proud of myself. Anyways, more reviews! I fregin' heart you guys.Read!

_**Review Responses**_

_Pointy-Eared Archer:_ First off, merci beaucoup for the review- it was very well-written. Actually the three reviews for this fic are pretty well-written, so it's good to know intelligent people have good opinions of my fic -D. But, anyway, I have to agree with you- I HATE Arwen. There's actually a very funny story- I was seeing The Return of the King in the theatre in December. When the wedding scene between Aragorn (hotness) and Arwen (iciness) came up, and the elves "unveiled" her, I screamed, "EWW PUT THAT THING BACK BEHIND ITS CURTAIN!" HALF THE AUDIENCE LAUGHED IT WAS A SCREAM. Hahaha.

_Dragon Pearl1:_ Yeah, no? I think he's very pretty -D. Hee hee. Oh, yeah, I am going to include them- in fact, they're in this very chapter! I'm so gay. But, thanks for the compliment. I love the Shininchitai- they're scrumptious.

Sorry if my smiley-faces look like big retarded "D"s.

>>>>>>>>

_Chapter Four_

Do you _know _how many times that _bastard _called me that day?

Do you have _any _idea how many _messages _he left for me?

One-hundred and fifty. On my house _and _cell phone. In _one _day.

I stopped during the school day _several _times to consider how seriously fucked-up this guy was. I mean, a guy who told me I was hot and left a million messages saying how I'd _better _call him back, "or else I'll come to your house and take a gun and blow your brains out. But actually I prefer a slow kind of sadist sex, if that's okay. Okay gotta go call back bye." (Actually I kind of wanted to call him back and tell him that _obviously_ he really _didn't _have to go because he _didn't _have a life and he kept _calling _me, Great Mother of all Holy Jesus Christ I was going to _kill _myself.)

That was what I was dealing with, I had said to myself that day. I didn't say anything to anyone because I kept telling myself that this guy wasn't a problem and that sooner or later he'd just give up.

Stupid me.

Anyway, after school I went to CVS to go buy my Dad some more cigarettes and maybe get some more Orange Crush. Now, I don't particularly _like _going to the CVS down near St. Midroko's. Actually I rather hate it. The first reason I have for not liking that particular CVS is that Kouga Kurasama works there. And that should be reason enough, but I have to _explain _to you about Kouga Kurasama.

Kouga is in the Sophomore grade at Shikon Public High, like me, except he's one year older than everyone else- the idiot _failed _Freshman year. I'd like to take a moment to let you reflect on what kind of _moron _fails Freshman year. Even kids like _Kyoukotsu Shu, _an _extremely _stupid world-champion hot dog eater, passed Freshman year. Ask yourself again: What kind of _idiot _fails _Freshman year?_

Kids who enjoy playing a lot of football, picking on other guy's girlfriends, and have really, really high black ponytails that are probably too tight, making them the pricks they are. Kouga is a complete asshole. He's a jerk, really- stupid as a rock, proud, cocky, moronic, bigmouthed, and two-faced. He acts like such a big fuckin' _saint _around Kagome but when she's gone he's "one of the guys." I mean, the shit he does at parties- he knows that Kagome ever saw him pull that crap, she'd be hesitant to talk to him. And, plus, she's _my _girlfriend, and he goes around calling her his "woman." There is no bigger way to say "HEY, I'm an _asshole_!" than to pull shit like that.

The second reason I don't like going to the CVS down by St. Midroko's is because it's _way_ too overpriced. I mean, there's a CVS by my house where everything is _much _cheaper, but they don't sell cigarettes there so I have to go to the other one and often pay two or three dollars more.

And the third and final reason I don't like going to the CVS down by St. Midroko's is because it's down by St. Midroko's. And I really. _Really. _Do not. Like Catholic school kids.

But I had to go anyway. I walked inside, snorting in repulsion at the "futuristic" sliding doors. They had special doors at this CVS and they thought they were special or something for it. Feh. Special. "Special in a _bad_ way," I muttered to myself, as I made my way over to the cigarette section.

I walked in and noticed a couple of girls with gray plaid skirts and white button-up shirts with navy blue vests standing at the cash register (which Kouga was _not _at today- whew). Their skirts were all hiked up _way _too high, and their tights were all _way _too easy to see through. But I guess that was the effect they were aiming for. They were all blondes, speaking with each other, except one girl behind them with a knee-length skirt and opaque tights. I glanced at her, and gasped. If not for the whole schoolgirl getup, I would've _sworn _she was Kagome with red lipgloss. I'm serious- this girl was the _mirror image _of my _girlfriend_. It was creepy. The only thing different about her was those eyes- cold and penetrating.

I shrugged and picked up a pack of Kool cigarettes, when she said, "You know they'll _never _sell that to you."

I looked over my shoulder and grimaced. "Oh? Yeah? You've tried to buy?"

She shrugged. "I'm only warning you. You might not really think I know, but I do."

"I'm sure Jesus told you," I replied, throwing it in a red basket I picked up off the floor.

"You don't have to be an intolerant asshole about it," she sneered.

"Look, girly," I said, holding up the package to her face, "tell Jesus to find me a discount on _this_ shit. Then maybe I'll be a little more 'tolerant.'" She rolled her eyes and reached for a pack herself. I scowled. Bitch. In no way was she like my Kagome- this girl was _not _innocent and girlish. She was the opposite- tainted and womanly. I thought about how much they were different as I walked towards the drink isle.

I saw a figure standing in front of me, looking pensively at the many plastic liter-bottles of carbonated beverages. He was short, really short, with hair probably a quarter of his height, black and braided like a girl's. He was tanned and wore a scowl. Him and his friend behind him were wearing the St. Midroko guy uniform- gray slacks with navy blue ties and white button-up shirts.

Behind him was someone slightly taller than him but slightly shorter than me, with wavy, messy black hair tied up into a complicated loop at the back of his head. He was jabbering excitedly about nothing in particular. I raised an eyebrow. Something about his voice was familiar…I took an Orange Crush from the bottom rack in front of the short guy.

All of a sudden, the pointless chatter ceased. I heard someone go:

"Ouch, Jakotsu, why're you holding onto my shoulder like that?"

Wait.

Did he just say…

"Ban-chan! O-M-G, Ban-chan! Lookit, it's him, the one I was telling you about!"

My eyes shot wide open. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. Shit. Feeling like _Mission Impossible_, I _threw _my bottle of Orange Crush into the basket, and, quite literally, tucked and rolled out of the isle-

But for a gay kid, this Jakotsu was strong. He grabbed me by the back of my shirt collar, and, before I could do anything in the way of fatally injuring him, drew me into the _tightest hug I had ever received in my entire life. _It was so disgustingly tight that I couldn't breath, partially because of his surprising strength, partially because of the smell of him- peachy shampoo and dog. I knocked him off me with all the strength I could muster up and thus forth sent him flying into the small rack of Doritos behind him. He landed in a massive heap of clumsy, twisted limbs and Catholic school uniform. "Jeez, you're cold," he said, rubbing the back of his head. He got up quickly, not bothering to fix the rack he just knocked over. He drew a deep breath in and exhaled, "Oh boy. Look at him, Bankotsu. He's perfect. Jeez."

"Perfect's _hardly _the word," this "Bankotsu" character said with a cocky smirk. I could've socked him in the face for that smirk. As you can tell, most people's smiles bother me. I don't know why. "Looks a little like a weakling."

"You shouldn't be talking, Shrimpy McSmalls," I snarled.

Jakotsu laughed lightheartedly. "Don't be so mean, to each other, you lesbian seagulls. But…" He lunged at me again, this time wrapping his arms tight around my neck. Sounding more than a little malicious, he whispered into my ear, "I've been waiting to see you again, Yashie…except a little more…privately."

I have to tell you now: any attempt Jakotsu makes to be seductive usually ends up in him knocking into something.

I pushed him off. "Get a life," I retorted, grimacing.

"Oh, don't be like that," he said to me, now rubbing his back. "We should get together and…uh,…what's the word," he thought. All of a sudden, he started cackling like mad, the laugh of a lunatic. "Boom-boom in the back room. HAHAHAH. No wait I've got a better one-"

"I _DON'T _NEED TO HEAR YOUR SICK SAYINGS RIGHT NOW!" I yelled. My voice lowered to a menacing growl. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: fuck. Off. I am serious. I don't want anything to do with you!"

As I was picking up my basket and leaving, I heard a brief conversation between them:

"You want me to beat him up for you?"

"No, Ban-chan! He's just _shhyyy_. Besides if anyone's beating him it'll be me."

"Whatever…pick that thing up?"

"Tch, why should I?" An obnoxious laugh. "Cleaning is for _squares. _Besides, that's what they have a _janitor _for."

After dumping twenty dollars on the counter and telling the cashier to "keep the change," I walked outside and heaved a heavy sigh. Those were the most tense moments I had experienced since…I couldn't even remember. Perhaps there _wasn't _any moment as tense as that. But I could still feel my body tightened and shaky with anger and annoyance. He _really _agitated me. To an irrational extreme. I'm not just being funny. I _really _didn't like this guy.

I breathed slowly. I hoped I wouldn't have to run into him again- I prayed I wouldn't. I stood there at the crosswalk saying silently to _any _higher deity: "Oh, God, _please_ don't make me have to deal with him again. I'll do anything. I'll be nice to Kouga. I'll ask before I use Sesshoumaru's cologne. I'll save the whales and stop pollution and find a cure for cancer if you just _get rid of him_. I don't care how. Let him get run over or something. Just _get him out of my life._"

Seemingly from out of nowhere, I heard: "Yashie! Yashie!"

I whipped myself around and was immediately drawn into a warm embrace, again smelling that peaches and dog smell. "Don't wear cologne next time- if I liked people smelling like women-filth, I'd date women-filth. Okay?" I stood there, staring blankly, as he ran back to the CVS down by St. Midroko's like some sort of crazy squirrel. He turned around at the door, and, cupping his hands over his mouth, screamed, "BYE YASHA!" A girl behind him knocked into him. He pushed her to the floor and told her to "keep away from me, bitch." He ran inside.

I just stood there, staring. I saw that girl who looked like Kagome snickering and waving. I flipped her off and walked across the street.

By that scenario, God had personally told me: "Hah hah. You imbosel. Screw you."

>>>>>>>

Exhausted, I threw myself on the bed and again became enveloped in _The Brothers Karazamov_. My phone rang. I looked at the number: _17185601294._ I shut the phone off; I didn't want to deal with him. _Especially _not _him. _

That night I had a dream. I had dream Kagome and Sango were tossing me into a pit full of snake bones, and then out of nowhere, Jakotsu popped up in the pit with me. "What're you doing here?" I asked. "Swimming," he replied, and swam, pulling me underneath the snake bone ocean with him. "Come on, Yasha, swim with me. It'll be fun. C'mon Yasha." I started screaming and yelling and flailing around, but Kagome and Sango just laughed. And I didn't think it was very funny. I really didn't.

>>>>>>>>

_A/N:_ This chapter was sort of weird to write. I don't know why, it just was. It also seems weird that I update, like, every second. I seem like I have no life. Truth be told, I had no homework today, and don't really have a life. Lesbian seagull…

Reviews are mucho-ly appreciated! MAHAHA.


	6. Chapter Five

_A/N:_ Yeah! Another chapter- and this one's with some Inuyasha/Jakotsu interaction, though, as said before, it's not sappy and mushy. Rather it's the kind of "I-hate-you-so-much-I-wish-murder-was-legal," interaction. Anyway, got another review- whoop-dee-doo!

_**Review Responses**_

_Pointy-Eared Archer:_ Yeah, totally- I thought Eowynn was a better elf than Arwen. Because elves are supposed to be graceful, beautiful creatures, not lumbering, time-wasting fools. Heh. But, the only reason I can fit Jakotsu so well into the stalker-type character is because I have a friend almost exactly like him. Stalker-ish and the like. Also, that is a good point- the only real yaoi pairing in the series is Jakotsu and Inuyasha, and yet there's so many more Miroku/Inuyasha pairings. Oh well- it's only because it's sort of hard to develop a relationship between two people who really know nothing about each other. Muchas gracias for da review, homes.

>>>>>>>

_Chapter Five_

I'd like to begin this chapter by introducing you to a man some know and some don't. He's a good-looking guy, with dark, silky hair and bright, soulful eyes. He's clean and is majoring in medics, aspiring to be a children's doctor because he loves helping children. Aside from being intelligent and humanitarian, he has a deep, profound respect for women. He's a gentleman who also believes that women can do anything men can do, and are not to be objectified.

Now that you're properly acquainted with _him, _I'd like you to meet my good friend Miroku Conlan.

Miroku's the exact replica and the exact opposite of whatever I said in the first paragraph. He's dark-haired with blue eyes (and no, I don't know if his hair is silky or not, you sick fuck) and he's pretty tall, but he's _not _majoring in medics. Truth be told, he's into religion; not the Irish-Catholic type, like his crazy Grandma, but the more spiritual-hippie type. Miroku Conlan could be considered a hippie. Miroku is open-minded, and nice enough, I guess, except for the fact that he's a delinquent. And it's not like he knows what he's actually doing sometimes- or maybe he does. But it always seems like it's subconscious, the way he doesn't care if anyone finds out, is looking, or doesn't approve of his constant stealing, pawning things off illegally, and vandalizing of desks. He also shares a deep, profound respect for women. Especially their bodies.

Yup. My best friend is a groper.

And it's not like girls don't _like _the attention; if you're not _getting _groped, that means you're ugly. And getting a pinch in the butt is okay once in a while, but Miroku has a problem. Really- it's not a once-or-twice thing. It's constant. He'll be talking to Sango or Kagome or Ayame and he'll start stroking their legs or asses or shoulders without even knowing it. My best friend Miroku Conlan has a problem.

Miroku wanted to be a monk because he's lived in religion all his life; his dad, who's Irish, is a reverend at St. Midroko's Church, so he had decided early in life that he wanted to be something to do with spirituality. So he decided to be a monk. Until he figured out what "celibacy" really means.

Anyway, enough of him. I had to go to school the next day, Wednesday- the worst day on the schedule. I had my free period with Man Purse, an English teacher whose real name is Mr. Gatenmaru Ushitaro and is nicknamed as such for the man purse he carries around all day.

I dumped all my books on the table in the study hall, sliding in towards Miroku and Rin. Miroku and Rin always sat together, because Rin's the only girl merciful enough to deal with that fatherless lesbian Miroku. Kagome usually didn't sit with us 'cause she was too busy with her friends Eri, Ayumi, and Yukka. Who I don't like at all. But whatever.

"Someone's grumpy," Miroku said, with a sly, toothy grin.

"Shut yer hole," I snapped, opening up my science book. I turned to some assigned page and started to illegally do my homework. Illegally by school rules.

Miroku shrugged. "So, Inuyasha, what brilliant schemes have we devised for ourselves today in order to avoid Kouga?"

"None. I've got shit to do. Watch to see if Man Purse is watching," I commanded, concentrating fully on the questions about the epidermis and sweat and blood vessels.

"Well, I _suppose _I could, when I _really_ look into the goodness of my soul," he said, sighing as if it were a burden. He went back to smiling.

Rin changed the subject, while twisting a section of hair into a side-ponytail. "Miro,-" her cute nickname for Miroku- "why'd you come in late third period?"

He sighed. "Well, my father wanted to question me as to just _where _I got the stop sign in my room," he replied, calmly. Miroku has this stop sign that we stole hanging over his headboard. I didn't have anything to do with it- it was all _his _idea. "And I very generously explained how the cops gave it to me after I helped rescue a kitten-"

"That's a lie," I spat.

"Not a lie, exactly- I'd call it a 'fabrication,'" he answered. "And he spent about a good forty-six minutes scolding me about lying. To make the conversation lighter," he said, with eyebrows raised towards me, suspiciously, "who is this 'Jakotsu' character your brother yelled at me about?"

I nearly choked on my own tongue. I coughed for a little while and then said, "What!"

"I called your house earlier," Miroku said. He looked at Rin, who nodded. "Actually, I was three-waying. Which doesn't sound right, now that I've really gotten a chance to think about it. Anyway, we were on the phone and we called your brother. He picked up the phone and yelled…what did he yell, Rin?"

Rin inhaled, like a little kid, and spat, in her imitation of my brother's voice, "'I _thought _I _told _you to stop calling my house, you manic stalker. If you _really _want to impress my brother _that _badly, I suggest you take a long walk off a short pier. Do not overestimate my power of temperance, because if _you choose to_, you won't _have _a voice box with which to speak with my pathetic runt excuse for a brother!"

Miroku laughed. I folded my arms and scowled. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, we- by which I mean Rin and Rin alone- calmed him down, and asked him who he was talking about. He told us about this 'Jakotsu' person, and how you and him seemed to be 'good friends.'"

Rin and Miroku snickered as my blood went hot. My stupid, stupid brother- over-exaggerating such a stupid situation…I'd _kill _him…better yet, I'd make _prawns _for dinner and strap him to a chair and _shovel _them into his mouth…I sighed and went back to my homework.

"What, no answer?" Miroku asked. To Rin he whispered, very loudly, "I THINK HE HAS ISSUES."

"ME TOO," she hissed, "DON'T TELL HIM THAT THOUGH." They started to laugh.

I slammed my book shut. "Look, Jakotsu is just some weird, random guy who for some reason decided to pick on _me _instead of any of the other gay people in the world! I don't like him, don't know him, and don't want to! We're never gonna talk again and I'll make sure of it so don't you go blabbin' to Kagome, ya hear?"

The two idiots blinked for a second. I scowled. "Nothin' to say? Good." I went back to me homework, when:

"MR. MIYAZAKI! YOU ARE _NOT_ SUPPOSED TO BE DOING HOMEWORK DURING YOUR FREE! COME UP HERE RIGHT NOW!"

The whole study hall "oooh-ed" as I closed my notebook and reluctantly got up from my seat. Before I left to go meet my punishment, I slid a clawed finger across my throat to Miroku, mouthing, "You're _dead_."

>>>>>>>

The end of the day came, and I emerged from last period Spanish with seven homework assignments paired up with a punishment from Man Purse, telling me to write "I will not disobey the school rules" five hundred times. Peachy. Just fucking peachy. To add a big, _happy _bonus to the end of my day, I found Kouga flirting with my girlfriend and my girlfriend not even trying to stop him.

He was leaning against her locker, arm supporting him, other arm resting on his hip. I saw red. "Well, Kags, are you going to the next pep rally?"

I saw her fake-smile. "Sure am."

"You wanna go with me?" he said.

I jumped in, again feeling like _Mission Impossible_, taking him by the collar and holding him two inches off the blue-and-white tiles. "The _hell _she is, you fucking retarded jock!" I growled.

"INUYASHA!" Kagome exclaimed. She folded her arms. "You know, my _therapist _told me that violence is a product of insecurity and guilty feelings. We can talk, you know."

I emitted a low growl from the back of my throat. Lately, Kagome had been _obsessed _with her "therapist," talking about all the psychology and other boring shit that he told her. I'd like to take her therapist and throw him off the Golden Gate bridge at a very high velocity. I set Kouga down, now far too preoccupied with my hate of Kagome's _therapist _to fight Kouga. "Whatever," I mumbled.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, one of Kouga's minions, Hakkaku, ran up, winded, panting and sweating like all Hell'd been cut loose. "Well it's about _time_!" Kouga exclaimed.

"S-sorry, Kouga," Hakkaku muttered, his gray-and-white hair matted with sweat. "It takes a lot of w-work to get from here to the store and back to s-school again-"

"Just shaddup and give me the thing!" Kouga near-yelled, further terrifying his bastard henchman.

Hakkaku held out a bouquet of white-and-pink flowers out to Kouga. "Here, Kouga!"

"Thanks," he replied, and handed them to Kagome. "Here- 'cause I knew your favorite colors are white and pink, so I figured I'd give you a little something, for no reason."

She smiled. "Carnations- thanks, Kouga, they're…nice."

"I know," he said. Glowering at me mockingly, he saluted and ran off. "Bye!"

Were Kouga not the track team all-star, I would've run after him and rip out his spleen with my bare hands.

But he was, though I hate to admit it, faster than me, and Kagome was now glaring at me like I'd broken a commandment. "_Whaaat_?"

She crossed her arms. With a small "humph!" she walked away.

"Oh, come on! He's such an asshole!" I yelled after her. No use. I bit my tongue down, hard. Stupid Kagome. Stupid Kouga. Those two should get married-

I shook the thought from my mind. Married…ugh. Gathering my composure, I scouted the hall for Miroku. He was right in back of me, smiling. I asked him why. He said that I had a _temp-er_. I rolled my eyes and told him to shut the fuck up.

We walked outside. Little did I know that my day was about to get worse. Oh, so much worse.

I couldn't complain about the weather- typically Fall weather, cool and dry. The leaves crinkled underneath my feet as we walked out and onto the walk. Across the street from Shikon Public High is a residential street- the houses there are all the nice, mutli-story brick and stucco type houses with hedges and perfect lawns. Suburbia type houses. The kind of house I live in- right around the corner from this street.

Miroku was suddenly taken with the view to his right. "Hmmm," he hummed, pleasantly to himself. I looked in the direction of his gaze.

"What?" I asked.

He pointed. I looked- standing there was Sango, in one of those shirts Kagome and her had picked out and bought at the mall and a pair of jeans. Now, normally I would've said "What?" But I soon noticed that Sango's shirt was a little bit…see-through. I grunted. "You pervert."

"I need to apologize anyway," he decided. "For our last date- that was some time ago, but I fear a woman has a better memory than an elephant. Well, I'm leaving- I walk home that way, besides. _Ciao_!"

I waved him off. "Yeah yeah. Have off with you, ya dirty slut. Get out of my face."

He smiled, bowed slightly, and ran off. I rolled my eyes. People don't get much stupider than Miroku Conlan. Still grunting over what a supreme loser he was, I turned around and immediately bumped into something. I got knocked back a couple of inches.

"Hey, watch where you're going, you-" I looked up from the gum-decorated cement to see, oh no, Jakotsu Himekawa.

He was looking up at me, grinning like a madman, wearing a dark blue screen t-shirt that had "Hugs not Drugs" imprinted on it in yellow lettering. His eyes were shot open-wide, glittering with all his insanity. "Shit," I muttered under my breath, as he drew me into yet another one of his breath-defying hugs.

"Yashie! Boy I'm glad to see you! Think of all the fun stuff we're gonna do today-" he started to say.

I knocked him off and shook my head, amazed at his ignorance. "WHOA, WHOA, back _up_! What 'stuff'! Why the hell are you at my school?"

He shrugged, smiling absently. "_'Cause, _Yashie, you go here- that's reason enough for me."

"You stalker," I said, furious. Great- my day was going shitty andthis, this..._stalker_,had just made it the most shitty-fied it could _ever be. _

He giggled. "Don't distort. You know, you seem very restricted- you should just let go, Yasha. Being restricted doesn't fit your personality."

"You don't know _shit _about my personality," I replied. "And I am _not _restricted, thank _you _very much!"

"Yes you _are_," he answered. "You're so confined. Anyway, where do you want to go?"

"HOME!" I exclaimed.

A wicked smile played on his lips as he looked at me darkly. "Wow, Yasha, I didn't know you were so-"

"Shut up! I didn't mean it like that!" I screamed, not caring whether the whole bloody school heard me. Fortunately, amidst the shrieks and giggles and cheers of all the school kids, my shouts were nothing.

"Aww, you're no fun," he said, pouting. "So. Where shall we go today?"

I opened my mouth to scream something to the effect of "FUCK OFF!" but no words came out; just a heavy, tired sigh. I was exhausted today- too exhausted to fight him. My shoulders sagged. "_If _I go with you," I began. His eyes lit up. Cautiously, I pointed out, "_if._"

"Go on!" he urged, dismissing my cautionary "_if_," too ignorant for his own damn good. He thought- _knew_- he would get his way today.

"_If _I go with you…will you please. _Please_. Stop bothering me?" I asked, begging now. Ugh. I was pathetic.

He paused, and then, moving forward to hug me, squealed, "Oh Yasha! Yes! I'll do anything you want!"

"Knock it _off_," I commanded, pushing him off me. I looked at him in the eye, this time seriously._ "_You'll quit bothering me? For real?"

"Yeah whatever," he said, starting to drag me away from my school by the wrist. I knocked his hand off, pushing him further away and seizing him by the shoulders.

"Ja-whatever-your-name-is! Give me a straight answer! _Will you stop _bothering _me_?" I asked, slowly and surely so he got the message.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "O_-kay_," he sighed. I couldn't help but be confused at his expression- a bit disheartened, with his shoulders looking too heavy for him to carry. But then he smiled, and yipped with joy, "This is so exciting! Where should we go, _In-u-yash-a_?"

"I don't know! And will you _quit _saying my name like that, ya half-baked homo!"

"Whatever you say, _In-u-yash-a_."

"I _SAID '_STOP IT!'"

"Hee hee. Jeez, Yasha, I was only teasing. Jeez."

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Jesus, why I ever agreed to that, I don't know- I must have had something wrong with me. Maybe I wanted to get away for a while. Maybe I was so dumb that I actually _believed _that he would leave me alone. I never actually did stop to think about why I did that, but I suspect that I was just too bored with my house to go back there one more time.

>>>>>>

_A/N:_ Inuyasha/Jakotsu really isn't that popular of a couple is it? Oh well…

Reviews are always appreciated and responded-to! Bye-bye, lovers, friends, and kindreds! I fare thee well! Gawds…


	7. Chapter Six

_A/N:_ Someone told me today it was St. Patrick's Day and I started cracking up. I don't know why.

_**Review Responses**_

_Pointy-Eared Archer: _Yeah, he seems like a dickwad…but it's from Inuyasha's point of view, so that's how he'll seem. But, yeah, I like him better when he's not kissing Kagome's ass. And,also, exactly- swearing guys turn me on. Grin. The characterization's only good 'cause I watch the show more than is healthy. Haha. Kidding. I actually can't watch it because I have to go to bed at ten and stuff. So yeah. Merci beaucoup for the review, love, and for the constant support- mucho appreciated.

>>>>>>

_Chapter Six_

We walked in the chill some feet apart from each other, him ahead and me behind. I shivered just looking at him- no jacket or nothing. Just that stupid t-shirt. I was happy for once that I had my jacket with me- usually I found it an annoyance. But looking at Jakotsu, I figured I was _much _better off. His cheeks were tinged a pink that made him look like he had rosacea and he was shivering.

I walked slowly, kind of wishing he's sort of forget about me and try to have a race with a pigeon and get run over by a car. That was just me, though. I looked up from the cement, realizing my dreams would never work out. "Where the _hell _are we going?"

"I dunno…where _is _there to go around here?" he asked. As if I knew- that idiot. I sighed and shoved my hands in my pockets, looking up at the buildings.

The city we live in is called Bayside, obviously because it's by the side of the bay. Side of the bay Bay_side_. Well, you get it. Anyway, it's not all that great of a place. Not like it's bad or anything but it's kind of boring. The only place to go is the marina, and it's damn _cold _during the fall. No _way _was he going to drag me around in the cold. If he thought that, he had another thing coming.

"Let's go eat," I suggested, wanting to get out of this as fast as I could, seeing as I had a shitload of homework.

"Hate eating," he replied airily. "Makes me feel yucky."

I growled at him. Wrong thing to do. "Well, you're NOT helping!"

He giggled. "You're sexy when you're all angry like that."

I blinked slowly, for a second. I then sighed angrily. "I will _never _have a serious conversation with you."

"Well, it's not like you've ever _tried_," he pointed out, looking around at the various stores. He looked back at me, grinning. "Go on, try! I'm smarter than I look, _Yasshaaa._"

I rolled my eyes and searched for something to talk about. I smiled, feeling victorious. "Alright, fine then, you bastard! Let's talk about school!"

A long pause ensued. It only seemed even more silent when the wind blew through the trees. "Well!"

He sighed. "Don't like school. I'm failing everything- hey, Yasha, you wanna go eat?"

Now, if I had had a weapon on me, preferably a very large and _powerful _gun, I would've blown his brains out. I would have shot him straight to holy Hell. But I didn't. So instead, I settled for my scowl. I could feel my _eye _twitching. His…personality…irritated me to _no end_. I would _never _learn to like this guy.

"Hey, Yasha, why's your eye twitching like that?" he asked me.

"Because _you_. Are. An. IDIOT!" I screamed. Some little girl snickered and pointed. Her blonde, flippy-haired mother ushered her away as I stuck my tongue out at her. During the months that would follow, I would discover that I really, _really _did not like little girls at all.

"Oh, Yasha, don't be like that," he said with a small, cheery laugh, too cheery for my liking, "you'll learn to like me. Sooner or later. Let's get Chinese or something."

"I will _never _like you, ya dirty stalker," I snarled. "And I hate Chinese. Choose something else."

He paused for a bit, pointer finger held up to his chin as if in deep thought, eyes looking up to the sky. "Uhmm, McDonald's?" I grunted- that was enough response for him. "Taiwanese?" he suggested.

I rolled my eyes. "The hell you'll make me eat that shit. They keep the _heads _on _fish, _for God's sake."

He sighed. "Well, then, how about…" He sparked up, smiling. "Mongolian?" I grunted again. "Spanish? Filipino? Or how about some French…French food is good. Hmm…" I don't know _where _he got the idea that Bayside held a wide variety of exotic restaurants- the only thing _slightly _exotic about Bayside is those futuristic doors at the St. Midroko's CVS. That and the Korean bar/grill near Staples.

He continued to list food choices while I looked at nothing in particular, listening to the droning of his pointless chatter. I thought about Kagome and my stupid brother and what it would look like if Kouga and Kagome had kids…shuddering at this horribly gruesome idea, I shook my head. I suddenly came back to earth as he was saying, "Arby's? Sonic? Quizno's?"

"Arby's," I muttered, quickly.

"What?"

"_Arby's_."

"Okey-dokey, lemon pokey!"

"Never do that again."

"Oh don't be like that. C'mon, Yashie, let's go!"

Arby's wasn't too far from where we were, thank the Gods. I would have hated walking with him more than I needed to.

After some trouble with the takeout woman's accent (her saying, "What sauce?" and him screaming, "I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T WANT ANY SIDES, WOMAN! GAWDS!") and me taking over, we emerged from Arby's with curly fries and some disgusting processed chicken.

"Let's go to Tiger Schulmann's and watch the karate kids!" he exclaimed, bubbling over with excitement. Before I could tell him how retarded he was, he death-gripped me by the wrist and started to bolt towards the Tiger Schulmann's near my house.

I knew where it was because I used to go there when I was little- you tell anyone, I _will _kill you. But it's true- that's where I first met Kouga. We fought so much until it got to the point that I got kicked out for "causing disturbances amongst the students." Tch. To hell with that- that Sensei Toutousai could've just stuck his lessons up his old, wrinkly wazoo for all I cared. Anyway, situating ourselves _right in front of the front window_, he sat us down and started to eat.

I couldn't _believe _him. I mean, we weren't allowed to- really, it wasn't…I scowled. "What the _hell _do you think you're doing?"

"I do this all the time," he said, popping a curly fry into his mouth. His eyes widening, he seized my wrist and pointed to the window, almost gagging on his fry. I pulled him off me.

"What?" I grumbled, looking over. An instructor entered the room, and all the little kids bowed, like we were in Japan or something. I hated all this karate bullshit- it was so fake and so beside the point. The sensei was a tall, pale guy with shaggy, long black hair and blue eyes. "So? What's your point?"

"He's the only hot instructor there," Jakotsu replied. "My, my, he's hot…I'd really like to rough _him_ up…" He went into his _insane _cackle as he shoveled more curly fries into his big trap.

"What is _wrong_ with you!" I exclaimed.

He started to laugh again. "There's nothing _really _wrong with me. I don't think so."

I paused, and said, my voice muffled from the chicken in it, "So you do this a lot?" I dipped my chicken in more barbecue sauce and continued to eat.

"Yeah, but it's funner now," he replied, watching the kids do various exercises. He never looked at me when he talked- just always kept his eyes on the kids, to see if they were doing anything worth laughing at.

"Oh myah? Why's that?" I grunted.

He smiled, sincerely. "'Cause you don't let me do whatever I want. Usually I go with Bankotsu and he always seems like he has no opinion about what I do. It's good to have a nice, cute guy who's challengi- HAHA, look at those kids! they're such _squares_! HAHAH!" Obviously a kid saw him laughing his head off- a few moments later, the sensei came out and told us to get out.

He was still laughing as he walked away, almost _tearing _with laughter. "Oh, that was _too _rich," he said, breathless. "Well, Yasha, what d'ya wanna do next?"

"I gotta go home," I replied. He pouted.

"Aw, come on, the fun's only just begun-" he started to say, pulling on my jacket sleeve.

I shook my head, pushing him off. "No, I gotta go home. I have stuff to do. Homework. Just shit to do."

He sighed, over-exaggeratedly. "Alright…"

I kind of felt bad. But more of me felt relieved that this was going to end today- actually, I was ecstatic. Finally ridding myself of _him _would give me a lot more time to think about more meaningful things. Like exams. And college. And my girlfriend.

We reached my house- the front lawn hadn't been raked. That would probably be _my_ job…I rolled my eyes at the thought. My house is big- it's got a huge front lawn and a walkway surrounded by these real tall hedges…it's brick, and the windows are these Monticello-style white ones. It's big, but in a way that's pretty average for the kids who go to school around here.

I walked up to my front door, him in tow. I took out my keys and turned around. "Okay, bye."

"See you!" he replied.

"No, don't you remember- you promised to stop bothering me," I answered, opening the door. The smell of cooked something-or-other exploded from inside.

"Oh, yeah." This time he didn't pout, and he didn't whine. He just let out this cracked, tired smile. For some reason it made me feel guilty. "Uhmm, well bye forever."

"Yeah, bye," I said, my want to get rid of him overcoming my previous guilt. I walked inside and shut the door behind me. "Ma, I'm home!" I called to the kitchen. I knew she was there- always was. So predictable.

She came out, wiping her hands free of grease with a green kitchen rag. "Oh, honey! Where were you? You're two hours late-"

"I was staying after school," I lied, hurriedly. If I answered too late, my conscience might take me over. "What time is it?"

"Four thirty-seven," she replied, glancing at a clock. "Well, as long as you were in school, it's alright."

I paused guiltily. "Uhmm. Yeah." I hung up my coat on the coat rack in the living room. Through the large bay window by the window seat, I could see Jakotsu still looking up at my house. Hesitantly, he walked away.

>>>>>>>

Seven twenty-six and I _still _hadn't finished. Usually I'm done with my homework by five 'o' clock. "Well, _usually _I'm not off gallivanting with fags and getting punishment assignments," I grumbled, irritated, shifting over to my Spanish homework.

I jumped when the phone rang. "Sesshoumaru! Pick that up!"

"I'm _busy_," was the calm reply from the other room.

I rolled my eyes. Busy doing _what, _checking his inventory of _cologne _to see if I'd _used _any? I got up, huffing like a madman, and picked up the phone on the end table in the hall. "Hello?" I said into the phone.

"Oh, Yasha! I know I promised but I just can't do it, I can't forget about you for some reason…I just wanna be your friend I won't stalk you, please don't make me stay away from you…I promised but I uhmm lied…Yasha you've gotta understand, after today I just want to be your friend…I don't know…please, Yasha, please let me talk to you again!"

Flustered by the hysterical sobs and tornado of torn words, I was silent. He sobbed and cried and talked into the phone some more, while I just stood there. "Okay, okay, just…just stop crying,…" I stammered.

"Oh-okay…" he said, voice shaking. He sounded like a scared little kid on his first day of school.

"Okay, now what were you saying?" I asked.

He started to cry again. "CALM THE HELL DOWN!" I yelled into the phone. "JESUS, JUST SPEAK _SLOWLY_!"

He sniffled. "Look…I know I promised and stuff…but I like you a lot Yashie…and I wanna be friends…well _actually _I want to fuck you, hard, but I can uhmm compromise…Yasha…, can you please talk to me again? I just like you a lot, Yash-"

I scrunched up my nose, confused- _why _did this kid like me so much? Who in their right _mind _could like someone that much as to _cry _over it? I mean, what was his _reason_? "Okay…okay…but just…" I paused. Saying "okay" wasn't the best thing to do,…but it would get him off my back. And I was confident that he'd forget all about me if exposed to piles upon piles of pictures of Brad Pitt, so it didn't seem _too _dumb. "Give me the reason."

"The what?" he sniffled into the phone.

"The _reason_," I answered, staring up at my ceiling, homework not done and time wasted. "I mean, like, why the _hell _you like me so much."

He paused. "I dunno. I just do. I don't have a reason."

Silence. There _had _to be a reason…but I was too tired to figure that out at the moment. "Alright then. Goodnight, Jakotsu."

"'Night, Yashie," he said, trailing off. I hung up the phone, and sighed.

I felt like screaming from frustration, but nothing ever came out.

>>>>>>

_A/N:_ Jakotsu's crazy. Mahahaa. And Inuyasha's hot. And I guess I should shut up. So, bye! And review, if you're kind- creative criticism, good stuff, bad stuff, I don't care. Whatever. Bye.

P.S.: Has anyone ever seen those Tiger Schulmann's kids doing karate in the display window? I mean, they work hard, and they're pretty good, but I find it _hysterical- _maybe it's just me. I dunno. Anyway, Happy St. Patrick's Day...


	8. Chapter Seven

_A/N:_ Go on, take it! Take another little piece of my heart, baby! Great song, moving on.

_**Review Responses**_

_Pointy-Eared Archer:_ I actually have only read episode summaries! I've never even seen clips of the Shininchitai Arc. Smiles. Anyway, yeah, Inuyasha's, like, on fire­- hahaha. If they make Jakotsu a woman, I will kill myself. That's horrible! Besides, I don't think they can, even though they'd like to; if they did that, they'd have to redraw the scenes where Jakotsu's got his shirt off, and I don't think any of the workers would be very happy about it…so it's either he's a guy or they're just stopping the Shininchitai Arc. I dunno. I don't wanna watch it in Japanese, either, because I like the English voices. Hmm…marriage! We should, because my friend David's backyard has become a wedding chapel! Love ya, doll. Hee hee.

_Dragon Pearl1: _Yeah…Inuyasha's got a soft spot for him, he's just a stubborn, mean, difficult bastard! And Ban-chan is always adorable…couple of things I'd like to do to him. Haha. I'm such a loser. Oh, if you've seen the series in English on Cartoon Network, did they just cut the whole damn Shininchitai thing out? Love ya!

_Chapter Seven_

I woke up the next day, sort of. You can't call what I do in the morning "waking up," really. It's just getting up. I mean, I'm not _really _that excited about seeing the people I have to deal with every day. Sometimes I don't even know why I bother.

Anyway, I woke up and did nothing of particular interest until I got downstairs for breakfast. I didn't have to get ready for school; today was some sort of professional day or some stupid religious holiday. Don't know, don't care. The smell of eggs and some sort of meat came bursting into contact, intermingled with cigarette smoke. My father was home- I could tell just from that dry, chalky smoke smell.

He greeted me with a large smile when I walked in, rubbing my eyes and scowling. "Morning, son!" he said, happily, smoke blowing out from his mouth. I nodded and sat down. My dad doesn't look like me, save the white hair and the eyes. Mostly I look like my mom- wide face, pouty mouth. But my father and I have the same scowl, and the same upturned nose. And the eyebrows. Eesh. The eyebrows…

"Good morning, honey," my mother said, in that sticky-sweet mother tone of hers.

"Yeah," I muttered. "What's to eat?"

She set out a large green plate and a couple of smaller plates out where my father was reading the newspaper. "Canadian bacon, eggs…and some fruit, if you're hungry for dessert. Get some napkins for us?"

I grabbed some napkins from the previously unopened generic brand package and stuck them in the purple napkin holder my mother'd always insisted on putting on the table. I took a plate and served myself a whoreload of food. Once I felt satisfied with my mountain of breakfast food (I'm not kidding- I just pile shit on, and I don't eat more than my stomach can hold, either), I sat down.

"Get some rice with that," Dad said, in that booming proud voice he used whenever he talked to me. I guess it's 'cause I'm the baby of the family.

Ever since Dad made it into the importing business, he'd been obsessed with rice. I shrugged and scooped some of the hard dry stuff onto a plate and started to put it in the microwave.

"Here, son, I'll show you how to reheat that," he said, gently pulling the rice plat out of the microwave. "Now, it's not going to taste any good if it's dry, so you have to add water so it'll steam. And mix it a little, with a spoon." He sprinkled some tap water on it, and began to stir. He put it in the microwave and set it on thirty-five seconds. "And, there you go! Reheat the rice like that, understood? We don't eat for the sake of eating- dogs do that."

Let me take a moment here to tell you how extremely ironic I found that comment.

Moving on. I nodded, understanding this display of fatherly love. He patted me on the head and went back to the newspaper. I began to eat my breakfast when, oh me oh my, the _Prince _walked out of the Holy of Holies (his room), expressionless expression _gracing _his face.

"Good morning, Sesshoumaru," my mom said, softly.

My father nodded. "Sesshoumaru."

"Good morning Father. Izayoi." He proceeded to look into the refrigerator for something to eat that was more _suited _to His _Highness'_ Royal Tongue. And, of course, there's no, "Good morning, Inuyasha." Bastard. I rolled my eyes and shoveled some bacon into my mouth.

"Is there nothing to eat in this horrendous house?" he asked from the fridge, pulling out a diet coke. My brother doesn't eat anything to effect of "normal" or "easy-to-prepare." Only this finest for him. Except prawns.

You see, my brother has been terrified of prawns for, well, forever. I don't know why. No one does- he's never told a soul, not even Rin (probably because she never asked). But the heart of the matter is that he's afraid of prawns, cooked or alive. Last time someone tried to serve us prawns was when I was six or seven and he was nine or ten. We were over a neighbor's house- they were totally innocent. They couldn't have had a _clue_. Anyway, we were all having a good time until the Misses comes out with a huge platter- of huge, ugly _prawns. _And, let me tell you, he went _berserk_. He started crying and screaming so loud that one of the neighbors called the police because she thought some little neighborhood boy was being raped. That's how bad it is. Since then, he hasn't seen any of those things, but when I make cracks about it, the look on his face is _priceless._

"Well, there's the perfectly good stuff my _mom _made for you," I grunted.

"I wasn't referring to _dog_ food," he spat, his face still emotionless.

I turned around to him and exclaimed, "Go to hell!"

"Enough, boys!" my dad cried out. He hates any tension in the family- he knows it's there, but he chooses not to see it, or bring it out. Sometimes I wonder how my dad keeps that smile on his face all day.

"Now, now," Izayoi said warmly, "Sesshoumaru just has more sensitive, refined tastes- we can't persecute him for liking different things, now, can we?"

Silence was my answer.

I chose to broke it. "Hey, who shut off my cell phone last night, _by the way_?"

"I don't suppose it was me," Mom replied. "Why do you ask?"

"'Cause _Kagome _was supposed to _call _me yesterday night, but _someone _put the phone off," I replied, typically directing it as loudly as I could towards my brother. I _knew _it was him, that little shit… "And now she's probably _fuming _at me for shutting my phone off."

"I did," my brother replied, finally deciding on just a Special K bar.

"And _why _would you do that?" I asked.

He glared at me, eyes narrowing. "Because that annoying little _friend _of yours keeps _aggravating me _in the middle of the night. It would be wise that you advise him to learn some respect for other people's routines."

"What friend?" Dad asked. "And in the middle of the night?"

I felt a red-hot flush creeping up to my face. I stuck my nose in my food more. "Nothing, Dad, it's just some person I know who keeps getting the wrong number-"

"Then why, tell me, are the calls persistent and always for someone who, ironically, is named Inuyasha? Or, to be more accurate, _Yashie_?" he asked, his voice ice-cold.

"Alright, it's just someone I know! Would ya quit muckin' around in my business, ya two-faced little creep!" I shouted. I shoveled some eggs into my mouth, frustrated, and said, "He's some weird stalker guy who wants to be my friend or something. I don't know. Just leave it alone, okay?"

Some silence ensued while everyone ate and drank. I sat there, for some reason embarrassed- why did knowing Jakotsu embarrass me? My mom smiled warmly. "Well, I think it's nice you're making some friends out of school," she said. She handed my father an apple. "Do you want some fruit, dear?"

>>>>>>

The phone rang. I knew what to expect. "Hello?" I breathed into the phone, grumpily. I don't know why I even _bothered _saying hi. I knew it was him.

"Hi-ho," he chimed, happily. "You don't sound too happy."

"Talking to you doesn't exactly make my day," I quipped, collapsing onto my bed. I don't know why he liked me so much…

"Aww, don't say _that_," he replied. "I told you, you'll learn to like me."

"I highly doubt that."

"Doubt is an ugly word," he said, in a singsong way. I don't know what made _him _so happy- he was a gay freak who went to Catholic school. I had to admire his courage. Sort of. "So is onomatopoeia. And phlegm."

"Why are you calling me?" I interrupted.

"'Cause I wanna talk. 'Cause I like you," he said. "I can't figure out any more reasons. You don't sound busy." Again with his assumptions- he acted like such a selfish little kid. "You wanna come over?"

I rolled my eyes. "No. What makes you think I'm not busy?"

"I don't know. You don't sound like anything interesting is happening. You never do. You sound devoid of happiness. Renkotsu said that once. I gotta go- I have to shower. I'll talk later."

"Yeah." I hung up the phone. "Devoid of happiness, eh?" I repeated to myself. I sighed. "What the hell does _that _mean." I wasn't "devoid of happiness," as he put it- I _was _happy. I had an amazing girlfriend and great grades and an exciting life. I was happy, godamnit- right? Right.

Figuring I had nothing better to do, I finished _The Brothers Karazamov_ up. Sesshoumaru walked into my room. I looked up.

"What?" I greeted him warmly.

"I'm going out," he replied. "Father wants to know if you'd like anything."

I rolled my eyes. "That sure is nice of you to _care. _Like I'd want anything from you. Buzz off."

His nose twitched in disgust and he left, leaving me alone- but not bored. I had it in my mind to prove Jakotsu wrong. I wasn't bored. I just had nothing to do half the time.

>>>>>>>

_A/N:_ That chapter was kind of boring…more character relationship foreshadowing and such. Cupcakes taste great and music is nice.

Reviews and opinions are appreciated _beaucoup. _


	9. Chapter Eight

_A/N: _Hallo, all! Sorry for the last chapter- but this chapter's good, I promise. Really! Anyway, keep reading, because this chapter has good stuff in it.

>>>>>>

_Chapter Eight_

"Where should I turn?" I asked Kagome, still not sure about the directions to the Loonie House. Hey, I didn't go there that often- nor did I want to. But I had no choice.

She looked up from my iPod, putting her thick, black hair to the side. She blinked. "Hmm? Oh, right here- oh, great job, you missed the turn."

"Well it's not like I go here every _day_, ya know!" I barked back, looking for a place to make a u-turn or to circle the block.

"Well, you _should _know the directions," she replied, with that little pouty mouth of hers. "It's not as if you haven't driven me there _before_. Sheesh, Yasha!"

I rolled my eyes. "Why're you making such a big deal about it, woman, it's not worth _dying _over," I said, turning at a stop sign intersection.

Wrong thing to say. She paused, silent, sitting there with her arms frozen. I could see the water glazing over her huge brown eyes, looking straight forward. I bit my lip. Goddamnit, why did she have to be so sensitive…I sighed. "Look, I didn't mean that, Kags. Don't cry about it-"

"I _am not _crying!" she said, turning to me with tears almost spilling out of her eyes.

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed, pulling over. The car almost ran into the sidewalk as I threw my arms over her shoulders and said, "Look, Kags, I really didn't mean it- okay? So just don't cry."

We stayed like that for a while, and then she pushed me off. "You're a jerk, Inuyasha- but I love you."

"Yeah, I love you, too, I guess," I mumbled. She smiled at me and kissed me on the cheek. "When you're not being such a damn _woman_," I finished.

Scowling, I shifted the car into drive again. I felt my face getting hot. Inuyasha Miyazaki is not the affection type, and she didn't realize that because Kagome Higurashi _is _the affection type. We pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. She walked in. I grabbed my iPod and followed in after.

Lo and behold, the Grand Annoyance himself was in there, sitting with his hands on his lap again by the seat closest to Kagome's therapy room. Wondering why he sat that way, I went over discreetly to the farthest seat I could find.

And I _could've _pulled if off- if not for that magazine on the floor. I tripped over the magazine, and, cursing my clumsiness, _crashed _into the coffee table, the noise I made causing him to look up at me from his CD player.

"Shit," I said to myself, rushing for the door.

"Yashie!" he exclaimed. He got up from his seat and, in his traditional fashion, threw his arms around me like a clingy little puppy.

"Get! Off! Me!" I shouted, prying him off. As usual, he crashed into something- this time that "something" being a row of chairs. Down they fell like cheap metal dominos, him being the cause.

The woman behind the front desk, with her big fishlike lips and dry beehive hair, scowled. I scowled right back, but didn't say anything.

"What the hell are _you _looking at, woman-filth!" Jakotsu started to say, _loud. _The woman's eyes widened in confusion. I looked down at him, looking up with a scowl and the most fierce look I'd seen in him since I met him. "Yeah I'm talking to you! Why don't you keep your dirty eyes in your head and stop staring at people higher above you!"

She shook her head and went back to sorting papers. I stared at her reaction for a little while- it seemed like she was used to it. Maybe they'd met before…Jakotsu's grinning face, black, wavy hair messed up and out of its loop, popped up in front of my vision.

I pushed my palm against his face and pushed him away. "Don't fuck with me right now," I muttered.

Obviously, I'd done _some _pain, so I was satisfied. "Sheesh, you're cold," he said, rubbing his cheek. "Sooooo, you're here with your _girlfriend, _I guess?"

"Not 'with.' 'For,'" I corrected. "And what's it to ya?"

He pouted. "Bummer. You should go with me instead- I'll make it _worth your while_," he said, licking his lips.

I blinked. "No thanks," I answered, putting the chairs back how they should be. I sat down in one and started to read a magazine.

He got his CD player and ran back to me like a puppy dog to its master and sat in the seat next to me. I looked at him. He grinned. I rolled my eyes and turned on my iPod.

A smile crept on his face. He poked me. "_What_?" I asked, pausing System of a Down's _Psycho. _Appropriate music while sitting next to the appropriate person.

"Whatchya listening to?" he asked, with that grin on his face.

"Music," I replied curtly, putting the music back on. I felt him poke me again, and I paused the music again. "What do you want?"

"How come your music thingy is pink?" he asked, pointing to my iPod.

I held it up and looked at it- near-mint condition, nothing scratched or damaged, and hot pink. "It used to be _my girlfriend's_," I told him, rubbing it further in. He was just listening. "And then _my girlfriend _wanted it inanother color, so she gave me this one. Anymore questions, Sherlock?"

"Why are you dating _your girlfriend_ if she sounds like such a fickle woman-bitch?" he asked, grinning.

"Watch what you say you freak," I growled. The insane smirk came onto his face again- he _liked _it when I was angry. What a fucked-up kid…

"You know, you're really cute when you do that," he said, his voice dripping with seduction. I wasn't buying it. I rolled my eyes, the popular reaction of the afternoon, and put the music back on.

And he poked me _again_. "WHAT DO YOU WANT!" I near-shouted.

"Can I have a listen at your music?" he asked.

"No, you may _not_!" I exclaimed.

"How come?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because!" I cried, "I don't like you! I actually rather hate you! So piss the hell off, you fucked-up freak!"

"Oh, come one!" he pleaded. "You can listen to mine!"

"Fine!" I exclaimed, throwing the iPod at him. He handed me his CD player- the really cheap kind, all banged up and stuff. There was a rhinestone glued to it, paint stains flecked here and there. A huge red scratch ran along the back. I raised an eyebrow and turned it on.

The music blared, an eighties tune. I jumped- it was loud. Wincing, I turned the volume lower, and made an attempt to listen to the lyrics, kicking my leg impatiently while waiting for him to finish up with my iPod. The voice was a woman's, who sounded maybe British, singing to the airy eighties guitar:

"…_Sticky on the shag rug, look at the tile/ I remember the way he groaned, moved with an animal skill/ I rubbed my face in the sweat that ran down his chest/ It was all very, run-of-the-mill/ but I noticed his scent started to change somehow/ His face went berserk and the veins bulged on his brow/ I said, 'Baby, oh, Sweetheart-'"_

My iPod landed back on my lap. I paused the music and gave his walkman back to him, saying, "What _was _that song?"

"What song, Yash-_eee_?" he asked, smiling cutely and clicking his tongue.

"It was something about sex and very, _very_ vivid imagery," I said. "A girl was singing it…said something about a 'shag rug.'" I shuddered. Too vivid…I mean, it didn't _sound _like a bad song, but it was…weird. Just…too…Jakotsu-ish for my tastes.

"_Ohhhh_," he said. He laughed, that insane _cackle_ he always laughed. He snorted and looked at me. "Uhmm it's called _Up the Neck _by the Pretenders. It's my favorite-est song ever."

"Yeah, I figured," I grumbled. "Why'd you give me my iPod back?"

"'Cause your music sucked asshole," he said, very nonchalantly.

My eye twitched, a little offended. "Well, _your _music's not any better," I muttered.

Jakotsu smiled, consolingly. "Oh, sad, Yasha- _some_ of it was good. I liked that song…uhmm…what _was _that song…" He started to think, his hand on his chin.

"Forget it," I grumbled, sorely convinced that he was lying.

"It was called…_Bullet Wings_?_ Winged-Butterfly? _Hmm…" Suddenly his grin came back, his huge gray eyes shooting open again. "Oh yeah! _Bullet With Butterfly Wings. _That was good. I liked that one. But the other stuff was just stupid. You should open yourself more up to music besides rock music, Yasha."

"Oh, and what're you, the Music Doctor?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I went back to my magazine.

"Why is your girlfriend here, anyway?" he asked, resting his head on my armrest.

I pushed his head away. "None of your damn _business_," I replied gruffly. "Why're _you _here?"

"'Cause I'm fucked-up in the head," he said simply. I stared at him for a while, in confusion. How could he admit it that simply? How could anyone?

He caught me staring through the corner of his eye. "Like what you see?" he purred.

"No," I snapped, and looked away.

Someone came through the door. I looked behind me- two people, I guess. One was a tall, bald one, with a head as shiny as Venus in the Holy Heavens. There was something about him I didn't like- his eyes, that was it. He looked suspicious. Next to him was that short guy, who just looked shorter next to the tall one. He was wearing a t-shirt that said "Bob Marley- Exodus." Feh. A Rasta and a monk.

Jakotsu got up, gathering his puffy black down jacket. "Oi! Bankotsu!" he said, waving.

The short one waved back, a smile on his face. I hid my head- I _knew _the short one didn't like me, and I figured the tall one would _hate _me.

"Eew, why'd ya bring Renkotsu here?" Jakotsu asked, sticking out his tongue.

"Renkotsu," who I suspected was the bald one, rolled his eyes. "Don't be so immature, _Jakotsu. _Let's go."

Jakotsu pouted. "Meanie." He picked up his CD player. I was hoping he'd throw that monstrosity in the trash can, but he tucked it under his jacket, instead. Damn. That _thing _was a disgrace to any and all electronics, and I was fairly set on destroying it. Hmm… "Okay, I'm ready! Let's go." He turned to me and waved. "Bye, Yashie!"

"Yeah. Bye." I ducked my head further- that bald one looked like he could be carrying an armed weapon. I was sure of it.

As Jakotsu reached the door, he turned around, making the shape of a rainbow with his arms. "Expand your musical horizons, Yashie!" he chimed, cackling insanely. I gave him the finger.

>>>>>>>

I walked through the door and took my jacket off, throwing it on the banister head. What a _fucking _day. "I'm home!" I shouted down the hall. Not as if I wanted anyone wanted to know- I screamed just for the sake of screaming.

My mom came down the hall. For once she wasn't cooking _something. _It was good to see that she even _had _a life. "Inuyasha, honey, hi! How was your day?"

"Umm, okay I guess," I said. "Is Dad home?" I asked.

"It's Saturday, so he won't be coming home 'til late," she said. "Do you know where your brother is?"

I smirked. Good. One _less _annoyance. "Not a clue. Not like I'd care, anyhow."

"Oh, don't say _that_," she said, smiling warmly. She walked into the living room. "Oh, by the way, something came for you in the mail."

"What was it?" I asked, kicking off my sneakers.

"Some letter from someone," she replied. "I didn't bother to look at it. It's up in your room."

"Okay. Thanks," I muttered. I ran upstairs.

Sitting on my desk was a loose-leaf envelope, square and tattered. It looked like somebody just folded paper over another piece of paper. On the front, in sweeping, neat Catholic schoolgirl black-ink cursive, it read:

_To: Yashie_

_From: Jakotsu Himekawa_

Next to my name, "Yashie," was big heart, filled in with crappy blue pen. I opened up the homemade envelope. The contents spilled out. I bent down and picked up two pieces of paper.

The first was a note that read:

_Dear Inuyasha,_

_Open your heart to something new. It's the insides that count the most. I hope I spelled your name right._

_Love,_

_Jakotsu_

Weird letter. I shrugged, and, putting the tattered loose-leaf letter on my desk next to my keyboard, looked at the next thing: a blank CD. Heh. Expand my horizons. For some weird reason, I stopped to listen to it.

The first song had a mellow sounding intro, followed up by a fast and repetitive riff. It was another eighties song- not too bad. The singer was a man, with a nasal voice.

"_I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind/ But I know that this time I have said too much, been too unkind…"_

I rolled my eyes and let out a "feh" at this weird gift. I folded up the papers and put them on my computer, wondering what to do next.

"_I try to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies/ I try to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes…"_

I sat on the foot of my bed. Jakotsu was crazy, real messed up. But there was something strange about him, too, otherworldly- this rare separation from the rest of the world that made him the way he was. I don't know. I laid down, trying to make sense of him. Whatever had happened to him, it had made him what he was. Kagome said something about people's pasts making them who they are. I didn't really listen to her lectures much, because that's the time she would start quoting her stupid therapist. Maybe next time I'd listen…whatever. Maybe I'd take a nap or something…

"'_Cause boys don't cry/ Boys don't cry…"_

>>>>>>>

_A/N:_ At least now Inuyasha doesn't completely hate Jakotsu…he thinks he's irritating, but he doesn't hate him. Though he does want to stay as far away as he can. Hee hee. Well, this chapter was good- it's to make up for that horrid last chapter…eesh…


	10. Chapter Nine

_A/N:_ WOW, I got alot of reviews! Like frickin' seriously, six new reviews (because I am so fucking cool)…and that's a lot, at least for me. And of course I am planning on responding to every one of them. Because, I love you all so very much and I think we should all get married. Enough of that. Okay, onto review responses!

_**Review Responses**_

_Pointy-Eared Archer_ (who should get married to me, hah) If they change Jakotsu's dialogue towards Inuyasha (sizzle), that'd screw everything up…HAHA imagine if they changed it so that he showed interest in, like, Kagome (whose voice also annoys me, yet it fits her) or something. HAHAHA. Anyway, yeah, they _did_ do the whole-woman-man-hermaphrodite thing in a couple of other popular anime shows…namely Sailor Moon, and I remember that because when I was real little I used to love that show. It's a pretty nice show. Smile. All-out hatred is bad, we should all be hippies and love each other! Thanks for following the story, lover of mine. The constant support is always appreciated, and I heart you too. Grin.

_Kitty Bun Bun:_ Yay! Jakotsu _is_ the best. Period. Thanks for the compliment. Anyway, I'm not sick of InuyashaXKagome _stories_, per se (they're a cute couple, you gotta admit), I'm just sick of the same clichés over and over. So, yeah- thank you for reviewing and much love.

_Actrivi:_ Yeah, I practically have no life- I update, like, every fucking day. Haha. But, I've never actually been to a cosplay thing…however, huffah! Go as Jakotsu! He's da best ever. And I'm glad to see someone likes me (haha), and, yes, you shall be my 'unofficial-reveiwer-to-author-penpal type thing'! Welcomed, of course. But don't read my other fics, they suck huge ass. I'll also list the songs, because music is to be shared, I'll do it at the end of this chapter. Smile. Hehe, foreign languages…you clever thing. I don't know any languages except European languages, though…so, byes!

_Im.A.Hottie:_ Thanks for the compliment (on the story)! As for the other thing- honey, I'd be scared if you _didn't_ say anything. Haha.Actually, I consider myself pretty normal.SO, enjoy the rest of this!

>>>>>>>

_Chapter Nine_

It was a week from then, now a Sunday, and man oh man was I feeling good. Mainly because I didn't have to go to Church. My mother, a devout Christian, went to Church every Sunday, and usually took me with her. God'll probably thwart me even more than he already has for this, but Church is the most boring fiasco in the world. You sit there and sit and stand and kneel, and even though everyone around you knows their prayers by heart, nobody knows what they mean. It's this big congregation of contradictions that nobody questions because it's been in progress for hundreds of years. My mother only stopped dragging _me _along this year, because my father _finally _convinced her that I was becoming a "mature adult, capable of making my own decisions." I don't know _how _he thought _that _one up, but I'll thank him forever for it.

It was ten 'o' clock in the morning- the time my mother goes to Mass. She usually stays a bit after, to help with charities and stuff, so I had time to myself. I swung into the kitchen to grab a banana, where Sesshoumaru was sitting at the kitchen table, reading something. "What's got _you _so involved?" I asked, peeling my banana while craning my neck to see what he was reading.

"The news. Something brutish animals such as yourself wouldn't have the _capacity_ to absorb, so don't bother," he replied, not taking his eyes off the paper.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, retard. I can't see _why _you're so interested in that shit- none of it applies to _you_. It's not like _you'll _grow up to be on public relations, anyway."

"I'm already grown-up, Little Brother," Sesshoumaru said, flipping the page. "It's a process _most _undergo around your age. That is, except for you."

I grunted something I can't remember and went into the living room to watch TV. Our TV is on the left wall- it's a wall TV. It's pretty big, considering most people have those box-like bulky retro televisions. Just _after _I had situated myself very _comfortably _on the couch, the phone rang. As if _I _didn't have anything to do other than answer a stupid phone. Straining myself to reach the phone from the comfortable position I was in, I picked it up. "Yeah. Hello."

"Is this Yashie?"

Great. Just _fucking _great. "Yea. Whaddya want _now_?"

"You're not too happy today," he replied, with a girlish giggle. He _really _liked other people's misery, didn't he? "Uhmm…"

"Well? Spit it out," I barked into the phone, far too impatient to deal with the likes of _him_ right now.

"Uhh I need a ride," he said flatly.

I sat up, looking around me for something else to say. "Uhh…okay."

"'Cause I need to be someplace at, like, eleven thirty," Jakotsu said, without the _slightest _concern for what _I _was doing at the moment. "I need to be at the movies with Ban. And stupid bald _Renkotsu _just _had _to go to stupid _Church_. I don't see _why _he does it, he's goin' to Hell, anyway. Stupid, stupid-"

"Get to the point," I replied, cutting him short one more insult.

"-So I need a ride." Somehow noticing I _was not _pleased with this interruption on his behalf, he quickly added, in a sticky-sweet "I-get-what-I-want-if-you-want-it" tone, "If _you _don't mind, Yasha."

I paused. Well, I had nothing better to do, right? It was better than vegging out here alone, and possibly having to deal with my brother, right? I sighed heavily. "Whatever," I said. "Just _don't _bring any food. You bring food or _anything _messy into my car, I will slap you seven days from Sunday. You got that?"

"Really, Yashie?" he squealed. "Yay! Y'know, I like spending time with you. I dunno why. Probably 'cause you're so damn hot."

"Yea yea yea," I grunted. "This _isn't _some wild attempt to rape me, is it, you sick freak!"

He laughed on the other line. "Naw, Yashie- I'll try _that _later. Right now I just need a ride."

I paused, before saying: "You're…sick. Okay, should I pick you up or…" I winced at saying that- I sounded like I was going on a _date _with him, for Christ's sake!

"I can walk over to your house," he said, too cheerily for comfort. His voice dropped to a lower tone. "Or, you could come over to my place, and we can just _forget _about Banko-"

"Bye Jakotsu!" I said quickly, and slammed down the phone. Fucking freak…I was now thoroughly convinced that, and I might've said this before, God _hated _me. Sighing to myself and feeling sorry that I was such a pushover, I called into the kitchen, loudly in order to irritate that excuse for a brother I have:

"SESSHOUMARU! I'M GOING SOMEWHERE OKAY!"

"Would you be _quiet _about it!" he called from the kitchen table. His annoyed tone made me snicker. "I could give less of a care _where _you're going, you obnoxious little _runt. _As long as you're not bothering _me _about it."

"THANKS A BUNCH, FAVORITE BROTHER!" I screamed, enjoying this all _too _much. It was one of the things I _lived _for. "AND TELL MOM, WOULD YA?"

"I would _advise _that you _be quiet_!" he exploded.

"SURE THING!" I replied. Before he could further the conversation, I got my jacket and opened the door. I sat on the stoop, waiting for Jakotsu. Looking around, you can tell that the neighborhood I live in is one of those preppy, yuppie American family-type neighborhoods. Not rich, exactly- more like privileged. If you go to Shikon Public High, you can discern the difference between "rich" and "privileged." And it's a pretty big difference.

A familiar figure was walking toward my house, from across the street- Jakotsu. Again, even in the biting cold, he wasn't wearing a jacket- that was the first thing I noticed. He was wearing a sky blue hoodie for a shirt, a screen hoodie with the Jetsons on it. His jeans were tight, but not too tight as for people to actually _suspect _he was gay. For a gay kid, he dressed pretty normal.

"Where's your jacket?" I called as he ran across the street.

"Jackets are for squares," he replied, running quicker towards me. Of course- anything conventional, to him, was for squares. His face now came into full view, and he was _grinning. _"You've been _waiting_ for me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," I grunted, getting up and reaching into my jacket pocket for the car keys. Dad had gone with Mom to Church in the black Buic, so I had the minivan to myself. Oh the joy. I clicked the car open and got into the driver's seat.

"Seatbelt yourself," I demanded. There are three rules in my car: 1) _I _choose the music. 2) No messes. 3) Seatbelts are required. I couldn't have more trouble than needed- I chose _not _to get arrested, me already being an under-aged driver as it were.

"Seatbelts are lesbian," he whined, folding his arms.

"_Seatbelt, _Jakotsu. I'm not moving unless you fucking seatbelt yourself."

He sighed, and rolled his eyes, proceeding to- very reluctantly- buckle up. I rolled my eyes at the way he made a big show of it when he was irritated. He was such a goddamn _kid_ about everything.

We weren't _half a minute _down the road before he started being annoying. "Soooo Yasha, what were you doing before I called?"

"None of your damn _business_," I said.

"Was it _private_?" he asked, poking me.

"No! Why the _Hell_ are you interested anyhow!" I exclaimed. "Don't poke me, idiot- I'm driving. And if I get into an accident, _you're _paying for the damage."

"Oh, you're no fun," he said. "You never take any risks."

"I do too," I protested. All of a sudden, with a maniac grin, he _lunged _toward me, grabbing hold of the wheel and _turning it_ to the left, causing the car to move towards the next lane. I panicked, punching him in the arm and swerving to the right, narrowly avoiding a girl in a green Volkswagen Beetle. I looked towards him, and, in a Three Stooges fashion, smacked him right hard on the back of the head. "WHAT WAS _THAT _FOR!"

"Owch! You're mean!" he said. He sighed again, looking _immensely _proud of himself. "I told you so- you don't take risks. You panicked. You're cute but you're uptight. I could change that, though-"

"NO _THANKS_!" I exclaimed. "Pull _one _more stunt like that, and, I swear, you're _out _of this car. And I won't even slow down to do it."

"Uptight, uptight, uptight, uptight," he started to chant, like it was some boy scout anthem. I ignored him, listening to his little rant of "uptight"- he'd change tones sometimes, going from shrieking high to bass low, changing the melody from _Jesus Loves Me _to _The Star Spangled Banner_, changing accents. You really had to hear it to believe it.

"Alright, it's not funny," I snapped, making a right at some incoherent intersection.

He didn't respond, instead changing the tune from _Amazing Grace _to _Mary Had a Little Lamb. _"_Inuyasha is uptight, is uptight, is uptight!" _he shrieked, "_Inuyasha is uptight and everybody knows it-_"

"Okay, stop," I said, "I get it."

Instead of _listening _to me, he paused and grinned, opening his mouth to sing, to _God Bless America,_ "_Inuyasha Miyazaki/ Is really uptight/ God help him/ He's so bad-tempered/ Even though he is really hot-"_

"I _SAID _SHUT UP!" I screamed, and sent him into his own little fit of hysterics. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, laugh it up _now_- someday it's not gonna be funny."

"Aw, Yasha, you're so funny," he said, through laughter.

"I'm sure, Jakotsu, I am _so _sure," I grunted.

He sighed. "Well, if you're not happy with _my _music, we should turn on the radio!" he said. He pushed the power button- W6.7 FM, the pop station, turned on to Mario's _Let Me Love You._

"Ugh," he grunted, sinking sulkily into his seat.

"What? I thought this was the kind of shit gay guys liked," I pointed out. "The sappy kind of stuff."

He shrugged. "I guess I'm not into this kind of 'I-love-you-more-than-life-itself' stuff…it's insincere. I don't love _anything _more than life. I don't think anyone _does_."

"I thought gay guys were _into _love," I retorted.

"_I'm_ not," he said. He stuck out his tongue. "Takes too much effort. Now, I'm more into-" he ran his tongue over his mouth- "_lust_." He laughed maniacally. His voice dropped down to a lower, more serious tone, still in his feminine, gentle voice. "But…I don't want all that commitment stuff. I'm just looking for someone I can have fun with. I guess that's why I like _you_. I dunno."

I shrugged. Uncomfortable topic…if anything more uncomfortable than talking about _love_, it was talking about the future. Both the future _and _love were favorite topics of some of the people I associated with daily. He changed the radio station- _Personal Jesus_ blared into the car.

"_This_ is good makeout music," he commented, in that weird preoccupied tone he talked in when trying to start up a conversation.

I stared at him and grunted, "You're _insane._ You are _really _the most _messed up _person I know."

"Well, I know _that,_" he replied, like it was common knowledge. He changed the radio station, obviously not satisfied even with the stuff he _liked. _I watched him change the channels restlessly.

"Jesus, you're so inconsistent!" I exclaimed, knocking his hand away from the control pad. I sighed, stopping at the red light. I rubbed my temples- so _fucking _annoying.

Cautiously, he changed the radio to CD mode.

Oh no.

_His_ CD came blasting into earshot I closed my eyes. He'd never let me live this down.

"Well, well, _well,_" he said, slowly. "My CD!"

"Don't get all smug about it you stupid faggot!" I burst out, keeping my eyes steadily away from him and on the road.

"I like this song," he said, turning it up. He looked at me. "Do you like it?"

"Like _what_?" I asked.

"The CD," he repeated. "Do you like it?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, it's okay. It's just…"

"Just what?" he urged.

"I don't know," I replied. He shrugged it off, and for a couple of moments, we sat there in total silence. He drummed his fingers on the dashboard; I made a couple of right turns.

"Hey, Yasha," he asked cautiously, breaking the silence, "Did I tell you where we were going?"

I paused, blinked for a second. Idiot. I'd been _taking this _for no reason, just _driving _around _pointlessly_ and having to listen to him? If there was anything I hated more than his annoyingness, it was his pointlessness. I sighed. "_No. _You _didn't_."

"Yay! I got to spend extra time with you!" he squealed, feeling the exact opposite about the situation. "You see, things work out okay, right?"

"Shut up and tell me where we're going," I replied. I was in a _foul _mood.

"It's the plaza in Douglaston," he said. He stretched his arms out, in a vague attempt to make me visualize what he was talking about. "Y'know, the one with the Toys R Us and the big Macy's or J.C. Penny's or whatever that big department store is? With the theatre on the bottom? You know, Yasha, you've got the cutest angry face- you seem angry but it's a dead giveaway to your real feelings."

I stayed silent. I _was _angry- maybe not as much as I liked him to think, but I still _was _angry. So what was all this "real feelings" shit he was talking about? I changed the song.

"_Children are innocent, and/ Teenagers are fucked-up-in-the-head/ Adults are even more fucked-up/ And elderlies are like children."_

That whole verse was true in its own right, I decided, as I made a u-turn and headed towards the plaza.

>>>>>>>

I stopped in front of the movie theater, letting him out on the side. "Thank you for the ride Yasha," he said, politely.

"Whatever," I answered, watching him fix up his hair into a loop.

He got out of the car, and just as I was about to drive off and go back home, he turned to me, hands folded, smiling sweetly.

"My folks wanted to know if you wanted to have dinner with us," he said.

I blinked. "Uhmm, they _know _me?"

"They just wanted to know that. I don't know why," he replied. He got all excited again. "Anyway. Thanks for the ride, Yashie!" After waving, he ran into the movie theater, glass door slamming behind him.

I sat there for a while. Dinner with his "folks?" The very people that _raised _that monster? Why would _they _want _me _to come to dinner? Even more important, _how the hell _did they know I existed? The questions plagued my mind as I sat there in flat confusion.

Someone behind me honked their horn, long and hard. "C'mon, you idiot! I can't believe this guy! Other people are driving, too!"

I shifted gears and gave the world my middle finger as I sped off back towards my safe haven which was not very safe at all.

>>>>>>>

_A/N: _Alright, that's it! I'll update tomorrow, I guess- again, I have no life. Now go away. Haahahahahahhaa. The songs, in order of mention, are:

1) _Up the Neck- _The Pretenders (it's a hot song, really)

2) _Bullet With Butterfly Wings- _Smashing Pumpkins

3) _Boys Don't Cry- _The Cure

4) _Pets- _Porno For Pyros

Bye-bye lovers!


	11. Chapter Ten

_A/N:_ Hallo my lovers. Reviews! And such.

_**Review Responses**_

_Dragon Pearl1:_ Damn North America! I demand Inuyasha…waaah…ahem. Hahah. Jakotsu's song- I love him, he's such a bastard. Haha. And Renkotsu, that backstabbing bitch…I like him, but he got jewel shard fever. Like every villain seems to get. But I digress. Also, I wanted to note that most people include Inutaisho as a more cold, distant, level-headed guy. I really didn't see that in him- so instead I made him cheerful and lovable! Aren't I just the stupidest ever. Anyway, thank you mucho-ly for the review. Much love and gratitude.

_Pointy-Eared Archer:_ Dammit! No, I haven't seen the third movie…sobs and much sadness…but I wanted to…has it come out yet? Yayness for Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru- I love the bastards so much. Hee hee. Anyway, yeah, Jakotsu's rightly justifying Inuyasha's pissy attitude- hahaha. Baby Inuyasha- wheeeeeee! So cute! He's hot even when he's tiny. Which sort of makes me a pedophile in a weird kind of cartoon-loving way. I guess. Thank you for the dialogue comment, too- that's what I'm aiming for. I love you so much- especially since now I don't have to spend thousands on a ring and I just have to spend about an hour on a story. You're too kind. Hee hee. P.S.: I hope you get better…being sick sucks. I feel bad. Bleh. I hope you're better soon!

_Actrivi:_ Just…lying there? That's…it's…a SIGN! Yes, yes, a sign! OF SATAN! Hahahhaha. Satan cracks me up, I don't know why. I always have to get up at five 'cause I have to shower and wash up and do my hair and stuff. It all takes about an hour, speaking of which I have to get more hairspray. Time-waster…you evil thing. Haha. Thanks for the compliment. Smile.

>>>>>>>

_Chapter Ten_

Thursday came and my favorite person in the _whole wide world_, Miroku Conlan, came over my house after school. We were sitting in my room, doing nothing in particular, just sitting there with him smoking a cigarette and being the jerk he was, like we always did when we went over each other's houses.

"So, Inuyasha," he said, shaking the ashes of his cigarette into a Diet Coke can. Now, normally, I _hate _for my room to smell like _anything _but the way my room normally smells- but with Miroku, well, I just let things slip. He's always been my best friend- that privilege comes with all-access to smoking in my room and eating in my car.

"So yourself," I said, spraying Lysol in the air. "Yeah?"

"I wanted to know," he continued, blowing smoke freely where I'd just sprayed the Lysol, "what constituted for your absence from the known world last Sunday. Not to pry, I'm just curious. I had _tried _to call you, because I was with this very lovely girl and we wanted to know-"

"I was out," I interrupted. I started spraying harder, acting as if nothing had happened. He raised an eyebrow.

"H-mm-mm," he hummed, obviously not convinced.

I scowled and started to spray the place that he'd stunk up the most. "What was the hum for faggot?" I asked.

"No, I'm just…considering," he replied.

"Well you should stop 'cause it's pissing me off," I grunted, looking around. His cigarette was out. My room now smelled Lysol-fresh. I smirked, feeling that my job was done.

"It seems my mere existence irritates you, so you know what- I'm going to keep humming. But that's beside the point- _what_, may I ask, were you _doing_ out?" he inquired as I put the tubular can back on the top of my dresser.

"Just shit. What the hell's with you?" I asked. "Why do you wanna _know _so much?"

"Well, for a first thing," he said, a tone of intrigue and ooh-ah-mystery gracing his voice, "it sounds _secret_."

I humored him. "You're…weird. What does 'secret' sound like?"

He smiled absently for a moment, thinking for a word, before he finally said: "Tampons. And this sounds like Tampons."

I rolled my eyes. "This sounds like Tampons. You are the stupidest person I know, Miroku Conlan."

"-And furthermore," he continued, not in the least bit fazed by my little interjection, "if you _weren't _doing anything secret, you wouldn't be so aggravated over my questioning. Correct? Correct. So, Miyazaki, what _were _you doing on Sunday?"

"None of your goddamn business," I grunted.

"Oh, come now! Your secret's safe with me!" he offered, smiling cheerily. Suddenly his eyes got focused, and he put on a "hey-I'm-serious" look. "Would it help to know how persistent and determined I can be…at times?"

"Persistent. Determined. None of them strike me as Miroku." And it was true- Miroku aspired to nothing. All he wanted was enlightenment, to be whole in the soul. Damn I'm good at rhyming. Anyway, Miroku, loving modesty as much as he did, aimed for a life that _didn't _require money- which meant no college education. When his parents heard this, apparently, they laughed- no one would've expected it from Miroku Conlan, straight-A student with a clean record and a good head on those shoulders.

But, unfortunately for me, I knew him better. So _much _better, that he was, to my dismay, he was sitting on my bed right now, interrogating me fiercely as to _why _I wasn't within reach last Sunday. Lucky me. Oh good God. "True, true," he said, calmly, "but that would be in reference to my academic future. What I'm interested in is the present- why were you out?" Miroku is attracted to intrigue and mystery like flies are attracted to really shiny lights.

"Piss. Off," I grunted. He sighed- at least he knows his limits.

A while passed in which there was quiet. Nothing to do. I had started reading an article in the People magazine I'd picked up for my mother on Tuesday about Johnny Depp and his oh-so-interesting acting career. I was stupidly not paying attention, when, seemingly from out of nowhere, a laugh came. A _woman's _laugh. To airy, dance background music.

Oh no. I jolted up from my seat. He turned on my _stereo. _Shit! The CD! He was standing there with this insane smirk on his face, like he'd just solved the puzzle of life, while my eyes widened, _terrified._ "You lesbian, don't touch-" My insult was cut short when…

"_Pump it up!_" Jennifer Lopez shouted. His eyes glittered, insanity. He turned it up almost _all the way_.

"Miroku you fucking lesbian seagull, how many times do I _have to tell you_ to quit _touching _my shit!" I yelled over the music.

"'_Cause Ah'm gon' live mah life."_

I covered my mouth- shit, I was laughing. Miroku was already in a fit of hysterical laughter, clutching his stomach, now holding onto my desk for support, face _completely _red. He started _dancing _to it, while Jennifer Lopez repeated, "_do it…do it…do it…do it…pump it up!"_

And I was doing perfectly _fine _holding in my laughter, until J. Lo said, in her over-pronounced ghetto-Latin accent:

"_Let's get loud! Let's get loud!"_

That did the trick. Suddenly I burst into hysterical, loud laughter, the sound of my own laugh strange because it hadn't been used in so long. My sides started to hurt from laughing- I doubled over and fell to my knees while that fairy was prancing around my room, tearing it up as he went. He was dancing salsa and throwing up all my papers on my desk into the air, shaking all over the place and eventually knocking over my bedside table lamp.

It was getting old, my laughter dying down and his dance coming to an end. Just when I thought I'd stopped laughing, J. Lo groaned, in that exasperated I'm-having-sex voice, "_Ay Papi!"_

We both started laughing again, and he doubled over too, as I was already rolling on the floor. God, it was insane- we were acting like we were on _drugs. _How could _that _be so funny? It was just Jennifer _fucking_ Lopez, for Christ's sake. How was that funny? But I was laughing, for God's sake-

The door burst open. My brother was standing there, scowling. "Have you forgotten that other people _live _in this house?" he hissed. "Or do I have to _beat _it into you?"

Miroku got up and started singing along, dancing. "Come now, Sesshoumaru, don't shut yourself from the dance of the Latinos! _You've gotta do it/ You've gotta do it your way/ You've gotta prove it/ You've gotta mean what you say!"_

Sesshoumaru paused, scowled deeper, and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Everyone lets shit slip when it comes to Good Ol' Miroku.

"O-kay," I said breathlessly, getting up to lower the volume. "O-kay." I sank onto the floor, regaining my composure, putting a palm against my forehead.

Miroku sat beside me. "Would you mind explaining to me why you've chosen such an odd song to play on your radio?" he asked.

I got up and began to clean up, picking up a stack of papers. I was hesitant- but I guess it was the mood I was in, that lightheaded feeling you always get after laughing like that, that made me admit the truth to him. "Look. Just…remember that guy I told you was bothering me and shit?" He nodded. "He uhmm hasn't stopped. And the other day he gave me a CD filled with all his _glorified _weirdness. And that's where I was Sunday- I was giving him a ride somewhere. And I _don't _like him- I just had nothing better to do. So don't go thinking shit that's not true," I snapped. "Any more questions, Judge Judy?"

He smirked, stretching his arms over his head. "Well…that answers that."

"Look, don't say _anything_," I growled, putting the lamp back on my side table, "or I swear I will kick the _shit _out of you. Understood?"

He nodded. "I don't understand why I would."

I sighed. "And now his parents are asking me to fucking _come over _on Saturday. Tomorrow. The people that _raised _that freak. I wouldn't be surprised if they skinned me alive and told me it was the way they said 'I love you.'" Having gotten _that _off my chest, I stopped cleaning, throwing myself on my bed.

He sat next to me. From out of nowhere, he recommended, oh-so-wisely: "I think you should go."

I paused, staring at him in disbelief. I blinked. "Never. Ever. Say that again. Or anything to that effect." How could he be so _stupid_? What an idiot…I wouldn't be surprised if the fatherless moron was in _cahoots _with that freak circus of a family.

"I don't know why," he said. "I just think you should. Perhaps if you agree with him, he'll eventually get off your case. It's how I get my parents to trust me."

"I _am _agreeing with him," I grumbled. "I agree with every little stupid thing resulting in the ignominy I have to go through. And _not _because I like him- because I _want _him off my back. But. It's not working."

He shrugged, and searched his pockets for another cigarette. I could always tell when he needed a cigarette because he started to drum his fingers all over the place and his hands would start to shake. "I don't know why, but I feel that something big will happen because of his kid. Something I can't explain- but a change." After retrieving a menthol cigarette from his denim pockets, he went across from the bed to the dresser, where I kept matches. In case of a blackout. Hey, at least I'm prepared. Anal- but prepared.

"Well thank _you_,Cassandra," I muttered. I looked at him, frowning. "That shit'll kill you. You fucking suicidal bitch."

He shrugged, lit another cigarette and blew the match out, casting it onto my hardwood floors. "What's so hot about living if you're persecuted by your best friend for having odd premonitions?"

I rolled my eyes, flicking them past a poster of a pot leaf he'd bought me last Christmas. "You think you're so fucking clever. You really do."

"You know me better than I think," he said with a grin.

>>>>>>>

I picked up the phone. Hesitating to dial, I thought it over- going over that creep's house wasn't the _funnest _of decisions. It wasn't the smartest, either- how many times do you hear about kids going over other kid's houses and getting raped or killed or made into slaves? (Don't be a smart ass- I'm just making a fucking point.) But Miroku had these weird feelings, weird "predictions" about things that, most of the time, resulted in me sulking and him saying "I told you so." Besides- I didn't _hate _Jakotsu. I just disliked him with a passion. But his _family_- I wasn't sure I could _deal _with that.

I rolled my eyes at myself. "Like a woman," I reprimanded myself, starting to dial that despised number on the black phone on the glass tabletop in my living room.

The phone rang a couple of times before someone picked up. "Hello," said a Latin-accented woman's voice.

I swallowed. His mom, maybe? "Uhmm. Hi. Could I talk to…Jakotsu."

"One moment Sir," she said, in a lackadaisical voice. _Someone _wasn't in a good mood- then again, how _could _you be in a good mood when you lived with Jakotsu Himekawa?

I could hear trampling across the house- must be Jakotsu. Or did he have brothers and sisters? Great. More _nuisances, _more mini-Jakotsus to piss me off. Another line picked up. "_Helloooo_?"

I paused. Shit. Now _I _was the one calling _him._ What a nightmare… "Hi."

"Yashie!" he exclaimed, surprised and happy. "O-M-G, Yashie! Yay!" Calming down a bit, and lowering his voice to a more calm, "I-want-your-bod" tone, he said, "Sooo, why're you calling me?"

"I- uh. I wanted to talk to you about that uhmm dinner thing," I said, fake-coughing a little bit.

I could just _see _that maniac grin on his face, biting down on his stupid lip for the _thrill _of it all. Jesus Christ. "Yeah-yeah? What about it?"

"I was…I'm gonna come, okay!" I finally exclaimed, trying to hurry this conversation up as quickly as possible. Jesus Christ- if the hate didn't kill me first, this constant roundabout, circling thing I did around him would.

"Yay! Seriously?" he squealed, far too excited to be real.

I rolled my eyes, which, by now, hurt from all the rolling. "_No. _I'm just pulling your leg. What the hell do you think! Yes, seriously!"

"Really?" Jakotsu's voice fell to that of a dreamy teenage girl's swooning over her first date. Except, he was a teenage _boy _swooning over dinner with _me. _"Oh, Yasha- you're so nice to me. Think of all the fun stuff we can do! We can play cards or something. Yasha I-"

"Yeah yeah," I said. "Can it, save it. When should I…er…come."

"I guess we can go after school," he said, barely interested in the basic things he needed to tell me. "Yasha, you can sleep over! That'd be fun, huh? Oh boy. I should plan it all out now-"

"What_ever_," I exhaled. "Just tell me the time, dress, etc., etc."

"Oh, that stuff's not _interesting_," he whined. "Why would you want to know _that _stuff? We can talk about much more _in-teresting _things-"

"Do you _want _me to come or not?" I asked.

He shut up, quickly. Good. "I do! Hold on. Okay." He clicked his tongue. "You have a pen?"

"Yes," I lied.

"Okay. You can come over after school, and you can stay 'til whenever. Because Soledad doesn't care what I do," he said. "You know, my parents are actually dropping a _meeting _to meet you- 'cause, Yashie, you're so hot-"

I scowled. "Don't push your luck. Alright, I'll be there. Bye."

"Bye-bye, Yasha!" he said. I hung up the phone, wondering why the hell I let Miroku talk me into doing this shit in the first place. I'd love to pin everything on him, on anyone but me, but I can't. Because it was all _me_- stupid, pushover _me. _

As I lay in my bed that night, trying to go to sleep, I kept picturing his family. I kept depicting this toad-like woman with bright blue hair and those wide, freakishgray eyes, a father with pink hair and glasses like magnifiers, looking like a mad scientist, mouth open wide and ready to attack. And along with this, I was thinking about all these miniature Jakotsus, all two feet high, jumping on me and ranting about how they wanted to sleep with me in their circus-tent house. And, of course, Jakotsu- smiling and standing like a porcelain doll, blabbing insanities to himself and watching me like a hawk. I finally got to sleep, but when I did, I had a dream Kagome's mom murdered me and got married to my brother.

>>>>>>>

_A/N:_ I included Miroku in there because he's really hot. And he's my second-favorite character in the Inuyasha series, aside from Jakotsu. So! That's all. Oh, the Jennifer Lopez song I used was _Let's Get Loud_. Yayness.

I love you all and vodka is a killer.


	12. Chapter Eleven

_A/N:_ I'm back. I haven't updated in like seven days and I feel rotten for it. Anyway, this is a damn long chapter- apart from the usual six or seven pages; it's a whole fifteen pages. And for that I am immensely proud of myself. Reviews!

_**Review Responses**_

_Magoleth:_ Well, that's good- realistic is what I'm aiming for, honey. And thank you for the compliments! I feel so loved. Anyway, I'm going to update soon- actually, I just did! (_Reeeeaaaalllllyyyy_ corny)

_SakuraEvil twin of Sango:_ Yayness. Thanks for the kind word. Smile.

_Pointy-Eared Archer:_ Really! Shit, I'm gonna go watch it! I love Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha. They're mighty, mighty fine. Anyway, yeah, Miroku's hot- disturbingly so. He's so cute. He's my second-favorite, after Jakotsu. Getting cured is good, too- at least it's a start to no disease in the world. Love & Hugs.

_Dragon Pearl1: _Yah! Jakotsu's the best. He's my favorite character, I think I might've said that before- and if I did, too bad. Aside from my vulgarity…little Jakotsus. HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA. Oh, how I love tormenting Inuyasha!

>>>>>>>

_Chapter Eleven_

Gym time. Oh happy daises and rainbows of physical education.

I would like to tell you that our P.E. coach is the most lumbering, idiotic person in the world (because it just makes for a better reading experience- who _doesn't _expect gym teachers to be loud, plodding, obnoxious beasts?). I would like to tell you how much I hate him _because _he's a stupid, lumbering asshole.

But I can't. First off, it's not a _he_, it's a _she. Miss_ Nazuna Okuda- the most temperamental, vain bitch I know. Second, she is quiet, doesn't lumber, and is pretty smart. I'd never say that out loud.

Oh, but, like all the female teachers between the ages of twenty to sixty-seven, she takes a liking to my best friend Miroku. So we get off the hook whenever we want- we've become quite the envy of the whole boy's class.

Miroku stood propped up against the brick outer wall along the track field, taking the first drag of a long-desired cigarette, and it was all I could do to hold back from wringing his neck and show him what those cigarettes _really _did to a person. He smiled. Blew smoke in my face.

I waved it away. "Knock it off, pothead," I said threateningly.

He smiled again, more broadly this time, and closed his eyes, inhaling once more. He began to sing, "_Stacy can I come over after school/ We can hang around, by the pool/ Did your mom get back, from her business trip/ Is she here, or is she tryin' to give me the slip?…"_

"Shut the fuck up," I mumbled.

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, well, _Mr. _Attitude."

"I have every _right _to be Mr.-Fuckin'-Attitude today!" I exploded. I watched his reaction- a pleasantly surprised smile. I growled, menacingly, and then threw my hands up in all hopelessness. I started to rub my temples. "_Imagine_, Miroku."

"And _what _would I be imagining, Mr. Attitude?" he asked. _Miroku _was obviously _enjoying _this.

I sighed and looked at him, in the eye. "Remember Jakotsu. That message you heard from him at my house. _Imagine _the people that _spawned _that _fiend_- who the _hell _would be enough of a crazy, spiteful bitch as to raise a kid like _that_?"

"Perhaps he wasn't _born_, per se," he replied. He chuckled. "_Perhaps_ he was created by a _mad scientist­_-"

"OH SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I yelled. "You don't help, Miroku." I rolled my eyes. "It's _amazing _the people I consider _friends_."

"It's amazing that you've got the mind to consider _considering _something," he retorted.

I snorted. "You're lucky I stick around to take your bullshit. I should just skip gym with Kags- but, _no_, I'm here with _you_."

"And how lucky you are," he finished.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and heaved a heavy sigh. I scowled. I didn't _want _to go to dinner today- just please, _please_ let something happen to Jakotsu. Maybe a non-fatal car accident. Anything. Anything to get him and his crazy family off my back. I scowled deeper as I watched the cigarette smoke spiral past the red-and-gold trees, shooting up to the sun as if it would reach heaven, the wind allowing it to pass as if it were something holy. As if it wasn't killing someone at the very same second- the son of a preacher, or his best friend with a lot on his shoulders; or, maybe, a black-haired nuisance who was somehow connected to all of this.

>>>>>>>

I walked onto the steps of Shikon Public High School, stopping and looking around. I sighed. No sign of Jakotsu- let's hope it _stayed _that way.

Feeling insistent _tapping _on my shoulder. "What?" I asked irritably, whirling around.

_Wham._ A small, delicate fist planted itself straight hard on my cheek. My vision blurred for a minute- I blinked, shaking my head off and hearing a slight, droning buzz in my ear, and said, "What the hell was_ that_for!" before I could really see who it was.

My vision came back- in front of me was a very pretty, and very angry, Kagome. I scowled. "Mind telling me why the _hell _you just _assaulted _me!" I asked.

"Oh, don't be such a drama king!" she yelled. Sango was standing next to her, and a kid with blonde hair stopped to look. "You _know _why I just did that!"

"No! I don't! Otherwise I woulda been on the _lookout _for PMS-ing, moody weirdos!" I snapped. I looked her up and down, partially because I was trying to fathom why she was so pissed- but partially to fathom how I could get her out of that short, denim skirt and yellow polo shirt as quick as humanly possible. Nice- I was thinking about her legs while there was another, more important problem at hand. Just peachy.

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "You- _jerk_."

"_Please _tell me what's wrong?" I asked, rolling my eyes. Why'd she have to be such a moody, stupid woman, anyhow?

"We were supposed to go out on Sunday!" she exploded. When Kagome yells, it's bad- and now a whole _crowd _was gathering some feet away, watching her yell. She attracted quitea crowd. I'd _kill _her. "And you knew it! _You're _the moron who _invited _me! Or did you magically _forget_!"

"Well, I forgot! It's not like my life revolves around you, anyhow!" I cried out, out of frustration.

Wrong thing to say, apparently. Another hit to the face, this time a slap, came along with the words, "Forget you! You know how many hours I was waiting at the restaurant before Kouga came to pick me up? Do you _know _how many?"

I winced- _Kouga_. That _bastard. _She grimaced. "You're an insensitive _jerk, _Inuyasha Miyazaki. I thought you'd _apologize_- but you're too selfish and infantile! You know, my _therapist _said-" oh _Gawd_, the _therapist_- "that people as selfish and babyish as _you _have ego problems! You're as egoistic as they _come_! I hope you realize that!"

Off she and Sango strutted, scowls on their faces. I stood glued to the cement, biting down my tongue. Damnit- I shouldn't open my big fucking mouth… "Kagome! Look, it was a mistake! I'm sorry, Kag! Come on- aw, forget you!"

I looked around at the people watching. "Oh, so now I've reached the status of total jerk?" I asked them. "Wouldya fuck off before I _make _you fuck off!"

I sat down on the steps, frustrated. Stupid Kagome…no, stupid _me…_where _was _I on Sunday that I forgot?

Oh, yeah. I was giving a fag who I hardly knew a ride to Douglaston.

So great. Just great. I blew my girlfriend off for a homo- a homo that I was seeing _again_ today. The shit Miroku talked me into…I should've just gotten up, run to Kagome, kissed her on the mouth and told her how sorry and fucked-up I was. But. _No_. I was waiting for someone I hated to show up.

At the very instant that my potentially homicidal thoughts started to occur, a familiar figure graced the street. I sighed heavily and bit the inside of my cheek down.

Today he was dressed in light blue jeans with marks all over them- paint stains, crayon pictures, and marker-written signatures, with the light blue Jetsons hoodie. His hair was up- what else was new. I watched him from across the street. In his odd little way, he looked both ways- fairly kindergartener-ish- and ran across the street. A chestnut-haired girl bumped into him. I could hear him screaming curses about stupid women-filth and retarded, stupid clumsy idiots before he came running again.

He waved. "_Yaaaaassshhha!_"

I ducked my head. Good, Jakotsu- _let _everyone know you know me. Let the fucking _world _know. I pretended not to notice him.

He ran up to me and sat down. "Jeez, Yasha- you look mad. What about?" he cooed.

I rolled my eyes. "Nothing. Everything's _perfectly _fine. I. Uhmm."

"Are you sure?" he asked, leaning closer towards me to inspect my face. I pushed his own face away, muttering the words, "Positively."

"Okay!" he chimed, happily. He grabbed me by the wrist, and I could _swear _he was cutting off my circulation as he pulled me up forcefully. "Let's go, then!"

I pulled my wrist away. "Don't grab my hand like that! And calm the fuck down."

That smile came across his mouth again- that suggestive, insane-o smile. He blinked rapidly, in some vague and failed attempt to bat his eyelashes. "You're kinda cute when you're angry. And if your angry face is _that _cute, I wonder what you'd look like all bloodied up and stuff." His smile grew. "We could test _that _at my house-"

My hand brushed against the pocket of my jeans, through which I could feel a small, tube-like can. Good- my mace was still there. Hey, it may be much, but it's precautionary. "You're sick, you know that?"

He smiled and giggled gleefully. "Yeah, sick in love with _you,_" he sang happily, twirling around in a 360 degree circle, starting to walk in front of me.

"Yeah yeah. Just shut up and lead the way, Captain," I muttered, slinging my backpack over my left shoulder.

Jakotsu looked back at me and winked. "Does that mean I get to shout out the orders?" he asked, suggestive and seductive- almost.

I rolled my eyes. "Forget that," I corrected myself, walking after him across the street. The air was a bitch and _still _he had no jacket.

>>>>>>>

We approached a nice, suburban area- small houses and big lawns, but nice all the same. He led me across the greener-than-green, perfect-cut grass of the front lawn of a nice, suburban house- a house I was sure as _Hell _wasn't his.

It was a small, square house with white wood paneling on the exterior. The door was dark wood, with an oval-shaped stained glass window on the front, the windows perfectly square with, my _God_, _shutters_. Dark-blue, homely-looking window shutters. The whole house seemed nice, cozy, good. Next to it stood a disheveled, yellow house- the one I thought belonged to the Himekawas.

But, no, he was moving toward the front door of the _white _house- I sighed. At least it wasn't a circus-tent… "Here it is!" he called, as if I didn't know already. He took a set of jingly keys out. Attached to it was a key chain of a black butterfly, with metallic-looking sky blue wings. I rocked back and forth on my heels and I waited for him to _finally _open the door.

I must've waited for two whole _minutes_ before my fuse started to light. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" I exploded, throwing his hands away and snatching the keys.

"Jeez Yasha- you're so _eager_," he said, in a teasing voice. I ignored the tone of his high, feminine voice and picked out a gold key, inserting it into the brass doorknob and twisting it correctly. Lo and behold, the door swung open. What a pathetic idiot- an almost _total _stranger could open his door better than him.

Realizing the inside of the house was fully visible, I held my breath, frozen to the stoop, closing my eyes tighter than needed. A poke on my shoulder, then a sharp tug into the house, were the only things that could've gotten me _into _that sullen wreck. The acute scent of, surprisingly, _Febreeze _struck me as the door slammed from behind.

Oh, well, it was now or never. I opened my eyes, which made me even more _freaked out _than I had initially _intended _to be. I blinked for a second, looking around, confused- was this _really _his _house_?

The floor was hardwood and plain, the polished, dark oak etched into a square-upon-square across the span of the entering room. From where I stood, I could see a hall leading into what _looked _like a kitchen (and might _actually _be a scientific research lab on giant tortoises, for all _I _knew)- a few doors on the sides. To the left of me was a small living room area, carpeted with beige, Berber carpet. The two plain-looking couches were white polyester, sitting across from each other and on either side of a small glass top coffee table on which sat potted violets. There was a fireplace directly in front of the coffee table. There were pictures on it and behind the couches, though I couldn't make out what they were. A stereo was behind the couch farthest from me. A coat hanger was placed firmly beside me.

For a second, I was _confused. _I _thought_, no, I was _certain_ I'd find _something _weird. Maybe a skin of a slaughtered animal, cheetah-print couches, a lava lamp, _something _to find fault with. But there was nothing. Not a _fragment _of Jakotsu's weirdness. Just polished hardwood floors and white couches and potted _flowers, _for God's sake. All neat and clean and orderly. Was this _really _Jakotsu Himekawa's _house_?

Firmly confident that there was something weird in the rooms to come, I exhaled steadily. The house even _smelled _nice. Like tangy, subtle vanilla and Febreeze. Maybe I'm the only guy in the world who thinks _that _smells nice. So sue me.

"Wait a sec here," Jakotsu said, breaking the silence and smiling like he couldn't _believe _I was here. He dashed down the hall and disappeared into some room. I stood and looked around. Wondering if he'd _ever _had someone over his house, and if his parents were home, I kicked off my shoes and sat down on the couch.

A stout, short Spanish-looking woman with dark-tanned, sun-spotted skin came into the room, holding a feather duster. Her copper-colored, frizzy hair was tied up into a high ponytail, and she was _staring _at me with these _huge_, yellow-white eyes, puckering her big lips like it was everybody's business. Her nose was pushed up a little bit, too. She was dressed in a light blue maid's uniform, blinking at me.

"Hi," I said.

She stared at me for sometime longer and then dashed off into the hall, muttering something in Spanish under her breath. I blinked, _totally _freaked out by that _woman_.

Jakotsu walked back to the living room with a pout on. "What happened to _you_?" I asked, not out of concern, but for the sake of saying something witty and sarcastic.

"I hate my stupid Nana," he blurted shortly, and sat next to me.

"Your stupid _what_?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"My Nana," he replied, as if I knew what the _Hell _his "Nana" was. It _could've _been a sad-eyed Saint Bernard, like in _Peter Pan_. Or my imagination might just be overactive. I don't know. "She lives here. She whines and bitches about God and Jesus like the stupid woman thinks it's _her _house. The nerve of some people."

I blinked for a minute. Well, there was _some _tension amongst his family, I could tell. And this "Nana" person must be his _grandma_… "What'd she say to you?" I asked, now a _little _bit curious.

"I told her that we had someone over," Jakotsu said, still in sulk-mode. "And she goes,-" at which point the switched to a croaking, sharp voice I suspected was his imitation of his grandmother- "'Is he at least a good _Christian_ boy?' And I said that like Hell _I _would know. She started ranting about how much noise I make and none of it's ever with a good Catholic boy, and how I was going to hell 'cause I was gay. I told her you were different and that she wouldn't know 'cause she's old and ugly but she bitched and moaned about somethin' else. She's such a poop-face. You wanna go up to my room now?"

I shrugged. Noise? What _noise _was he talking about? A shudder ran through me as the sickest of thoughts ran through my now polluted imagination. We went up a set of light-colored wooden stairs, him running at a fast pace, whisking his smell of peaches and dog at me. I winced.

Upstairs, again, looked normal. I wondered what kind of _conspiracy _this was as he opened the door to the room closest to the staircase.

His room was pretty normal, too- neat considering what a scatterbrained fool he came across as. Too neat. Like it hadn't ever been touched. It was carpeted in beige as well, the walls white and untouched. There was a bed against the wall straight across from the door, with- just _guess _the color- _white _sheets. Two bedside tables, a dresser, a desk- all in matching colors. On the desk there was a cheap computer. It was all very plain and calm, like any normal teenage girl's room would be. This whole fucking _house _looked like an Ikea display- so calm and arranged and neat that it was scary.

The Almighty Fag spun around, arms outstretched, and landed himself on the bed, making a loud _thunk _noise when he did. "Soooo, Yasha, whaddya wanna do first?"

I looked around the room again- there weren't really any personal "touches," save some pictures and a big _Fight Club _poster hanging above the plain bed. I shrugged and situated myself at the foot of the bed.

A moment of calm followed. Well, _this _wasn't very fun. I wondered frantically what the _hell _I was doing here, before _Jakotsu _decided that he would state the obvious, head propped up in his hands, saying:

"Eh. I'm bored."

I rolled my eyes. "Really? I woulda _never _thought." I wasn't sure if he hadn't caught the sarcasm or was just ignoring me. He got up and started to look for something on a shelf.

I raised an eyebrow- what the hell was he doing _now_? He rummaged through the shelf opposite his bed, throwing stuff all over the place,- books, a Magic 8 Ball, a couple of bracelets- some (by which I mean _most_) of it hit me. I ducked as a book came flying at me. "Oi, whaddya tryin' to do! _Kill _me!"

He ignored me again, as if it was his place to. Jerk. Suddenly he whooshed around, apparently finding what he was risking my life to look for. "Ah! _Heeerree _it is!" he chimed, happily, throwing himself onto the bed again.

I looked down at his hand, to see a crumpled piece of paper. He unfolded the crinkly material, looking down at it almost quizzically. "M'kay! Okey dokey…now, if I remember this right…hmm, no, that's not right…oh! Oh, okay!" His eyes fixated on me; he smiled warmly. I frowned, a little confused. "Okay. I'm going to tell you…" His voice dropped to a low, mysterious intrigue-and-murder-story tone, tilting his head down as to look even _more _secretive (which, by the way, I _wasn't _buying). "A _murder story._"

I snorted. "Tell away, fruitcake," I scoffed, with a dismissive wave of my hand.

He pouted. "Aww, fine. I won't tell it to you, then!"

"Okay," I agreed.

Silence. "Well, you're missing out," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Sure am."

"It's a really fun game."

"Yup. Oh boy."

"Too _bad _you'll be missing out," he sighed, smiling. As if I _cared_- did he _really _think I'd concede to his ideas?

A while passed before he finally caved in. "Well, I'm gonna tell it to you anyway, 'cause I feel like it," he announced, getting up and shutting off the lights. He came back, but this time he didn't include that mysterious tone in his voice. "Okay, Yashie! Okay…hmm. If I remember it right, there's a river…with a bridge over it! A WIFE and a HUSBAND live in a house on one side of the river thing. And the LOVER of the WIFE lives on the other side, and you can only go from one side to another by going across the bridge _or _asking this dude called the BOATMAN to take you across in his boat.

"So the HUSBAND goes on some kind of thing to do with business…he tells his WIFE he'll be gone all night. She wants to go with him because she knows that if he goes she'll go screw the LOVER for the night but the HUSBAND tells her she can't go 'cause she'll get in the way. Of something. Anyway, when the HUSBAND goes, the WIFE spends the night with her LOVER. And when dawn breaks, she has to go back home before the HUSBAND comes home, but she can't go across the bridge because there's an ASSASSIN that'll kill her or something if she goes across that way. So she goes to the BOATMAN, but she can't go across because she can't pay the boat fee. Then she goes to her LOVER and asks for the money to go across the bridge, but he refuses and says it's her fault for getting herself into the situation…or something like that. As the sun rises the WIFE is desperate so she goes across the bridge back to her house where the ASSASSIN is waiting for her and he stabs her to death until she finally dies the end."

I blinked for a minute, trying to comprehend what the _hell _he just said to me. "I don't talk Chinese," I reminded him, bluntly.

"It's supposed to tell you what kind of person you are," he said. "I think. You're supposed to list the order that you find them guilty in."

"Well. How can I know who's guilty if I don't even know the story!" I exclaimed.

"You shoulda been paying attention," he said with a teasing grin.

I frowned. "Don't you even _start _with me."

He sighed and told it over again. When I finally got it (the objective is to list the characters you find guilty of the wife's death in order), and when we finally got a hold of pens and paper, I listed them in this order:

1. HUSBAND

2. ASSASSIN

3. BOATMAN

4. WIFE

5. LOVER

And Jakotsu in this order:

1. WIFE

2. LOVER

3. BOATMAN

4. HUSBAND

5. ASSASSIN

I looked at our papers. We thought almost exactly opposite, and this only further proved it. "So," I began, putting down my pen, "lemme get this straight. _This _is supposed to tell me about myself."

"Each one _symbolizes _something, Yashie," he replied, squinting at both the papers. "The husband symbolizes love, I think. The wife symbolizes fun. The assassin is money and the boatman is magic, and I think the lover is sex." I sat quiet as he looked at me for some sign that I agreed. He sighed. "So! What's most important in your life is Love, and then Money. After that is Magic, then Fun, and last is Sex…how can that be?"

"How can _what _be?" I asked him.

"How can you think _sex_ is the least important?" he asked, puzzled. He let out a hysterical, insane burst of laughter, and after I made a comment about what a messed-up fag he was, he proceeded to list his values, which went as: Fun, Sex, Magic, Love, and Money. "That's exactly right!"

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure it is…where the _Hell _did you learn that?"

He smiled. "From a book I read. Called _The Pigman_."

"Oh," I grunted. Jakotsu read _books_- another astonishing fact of life I'd found out in the astonishingly plain household of Jakotsu Himekawa.

>>>>>>>

Boredom. The thing had followed me ever since the end of school.

"Where're your parents?" I asked, watching him fling yogurt out his window. He'd started this out of boredom; we had gone down to the kitchen and gotten food. As soon as we got upstairs, he got bored again, and he made up a game: every time someone passed by the house, we'd fling yogurt at them, and points were counted at how many times you got people. Whoever had the most points, obviously, won. I'd given up a long time ago, but he was still going strong. I was just surprised we hadn't been _arrested_.

He looked at me, with an oddly baffled expression on his face. "My parents?" he repeated. "I dunno. Probably at work. Y'know, they dropped a meeting to have dinner with you."

I paused. A_ meeting_- what _kind _of meeting? My imagination went to work again, the thought that maybe they were in the Ku Klux Klan seething itself into my brain. "Why'd they do _that_?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Dunno. I just talked about you and they said they'd 'love to meet you.' And then they went on about how nice it was that I was making friends and blah blah blah."

"Hmph," I grunted. Someone passed by the house- a youngish woman with a mauve business suit on and blonde hair twisted into a bun.

"RAZOR!" Jakotsu shrieked, taking a huge scoop of the lavender-ish goop and _hurling _it out the window. Now, I wasn't _expecting _it to go where it did- but it did.

It landed _on the woman_, splattering all over her neat hair. My eyes widened and I froze. She looked up at the window, to see no other than Inuyasha Miyazaki and Jakotsu Himekawa, armed with spoons and yogurt. Her jaw dropped; she took off her sunglasses. "What the _fuck_!" she yelled.

"Duck!" I hissed, pulling him down under the desk. Jesus- could that file as _harassment_? Oh God…the last thing I needed was to be arrested for flinging _yogurt _at some woman…

We waited under the desk for a while, listening to the high pitch of her incoherent, profane rants and raves about "juvenile delinquents" and "fucking low-fat yogurt" on a "new bitching suit!" After a few minutes, the screaming stopped; the clicking of heels told me she was gone.

I heaved my weight up to get out from under the desk, but was tugged back by an iron grip on my shoulder. My head hit the top of the desk. "Ouch! What the Hell're you hangin' onto me for, moron!"

His grip on my shoulder tightened. I looked at him- he was smiling.

He threw his head back and started to laugh, clutching his sides and burying his head into my shoulder. The laughter seemed to be too much for him; his pale face was turning _immensely _red, and his whole frame shook with each hysteric cackle he let out. I just looked at him, didn't tug away. I blinked in confusion- it wasn't _that _funny. His face was now dangerously close to my neck. I pushed him off and got out from under the desk.

"What's got _you _so worked up?" I asked, taking a cautious look out the window. What if she was still there? I'd be in trouble then…

I didn't see the girl; instead, a black Toyota pulled up in front of the house, full in view and illuminated in the six-'o'-clock purplish darkness of the world around. I bit my bottom lip; parents. That had to be them.

He got up from under the desk. "Yup, that's my folks," he said. "Too _bad_…I was thinking we could have some fun on our _own_," he added, deliciously slow as if trying to be somewhat seductive. Did this guy not _get _that I was _straight_?

"C'mon, we better go down," he said, pulling me by the arm.

Aw Holy Hell.

His _parents_.

I'd feared them more than the mini-Jakotsus; they were, as I've said before, the parents of Satan hisself.

I swallowed. "Do you have any siblings, Jakotsu?"

"No. I hate little kids. Why?"

>>>>>>>

"Mom, Dad, this is Inuyasha. Inuyasha, this is my Mom and Dad."

Jakotsu sounded more than bored, standing next to me, folding his arms and tapping his foot impatiently as I shook hands with his father.

"Pleasure to meet you, Inuyasha," he said. His grip was firm and his shake authoritative. I winced. Jesus Holy Christ, this guy's grip was tight. "I'm Takeda."

"Uhmm hi," I said. Smooth. _Real _smooth, Inuyasha Miyazaki.

"I'm Jeanne," his mother piped up. Her voice was high-pitched and actually rather _irritating_, like a small bird's or a rodent's. "It's very nice to meet you, Inuyasha!"

"Save it," Jakotsu interrupted, pulling me away. _Someone _didn't like their parents.

Again I was surprised by their appearances- normal. Absolutely normal. Too normal, too suburbia-perfect to be real. I thought that maybe these people were hired, and his _real _parents were off experimenting with tortoises or some other endangered animal in the Fiji Islands.

His father- well, he was a typical Japanese man. His head was almost completely round, his figure a little stout and chubby. He had small, pitch-black eyes behind square glasses and a flat nose with wide nostrils. His hair was balding at the top. He wore a business suit.

When looking at his mom, I could tell where he got his looks from. His mother was, to put it plainly, gorgeous as all get-out; her large gray eyes were fringed with thick, soft lashes and her hair was wavy and dark, dark brown. She was petite and small, and she looked some twenty years Takeda's junior.

"What's for dinner?" Jakotsu asked.

"Did you ask Soledad?" Jeanne asked. The way his parents talked to him- you could see something in their eyes, hear the shaking in their voice; the whole reaction to him was something akin to fear. Hell, I'd be afraid if Jakotsu was _my _kid, too.

>>>>>>>

Dinner was…weird.

_I_ talked to his parents, while he sat there like a baby, pushing his peas around the blue china plate like a three-year-old. The food was good enough- the woman Jakotsu kept calling Soledad made meatloaf, peas, and yellow rice. Yeah, dinner itself was great- but the atmosphere was weird. It was quiet, like we were all aliens speaking different languages to each other. Jakotsu didn't talk to his parents, and his parents didn't talk to him. The only conversation struck up was for me, and it was so formal and polite it made me throw up.

I wasn't used to this. Even if me and my brother were always arguing, and my Mom was always cooking, and my Dad was always smoking, at least we fucking _knew _each other. I mean, these people…they acted so weird.

His mother, Jeanne, was all too nice. "So, Inuyasha," she started, cutting her meat neatly, "do you go to St. Midroko's with Jakotsu?"

I swallowed my rice, scowling. I hated this stupid small-talk. It was so pointless. His _mother_, however, seemed to _love _it. "Uhmm. No. I go to Shikon High. The public high school."

"Ah. I see," she replied. "Isn't it nice to see someone else's ways of doing things? Jakotsu?"

"No," he said bluntly. "I don't like school."

Jeanne faked a smile and a laugh and we continued to eat in silence, the crashing of metal against china the only sound constituting as conversation. The silence was choking, like it was pressuring me to just blurt something out. And I would've- except that I'm not a total idiot.

I looked at Jakotsu compared to his parents. Yeah, him and his mom look almost exactly alike- but his parents were plain and ordinary, while he was…not. I tried to figure out his mom's nationality; I knew Takeda was Japanese- most businessmen around Bayside _are_- but Jeanne looked European. Maybe English or French or something like that…

"Where did you and Jakotsu meet?" Takeda asked. I raised an eyebrow- boy, these people were desperate.

"At the therapist," I spat, shoveling more peas onto my plate. I saw their faces fall like the Spanish armada and couldn't help but smile.

"The…therapist," Jeanne breathed. I could just _tell _what she was thinking- her son had made nice with yet another crazy. Stupid as the assumption was, at least her _brain _was functioning right.

"My girlfriend goes there," I added. I could see the stress lift from off their shoulders as Jeanne let out a heavy sigh and Takeda continued eating. "I had to pick her up. I met Jakotsu there."

"Well that's lovely," Jeanne replied. She eyed Jakotsu, sitting with his knee up on the table, staring, disgusted, at the green circles he continuously pushed around his plate. He couldn't have looked more like an immature _brat _if he wanted to. "Eat your peas, Jakotsu…"

He looked up, tossing his hair aside and pushing the china away from him, nonchalantly. "I don't wanna. They look icky," he said, poking at them with his fork. I rolled my eyes. If you are any stupider than Jakotsu Himekawa, I feel bad for you.

Jeanne's mouth twitched in annoyance, but she just heaved in a sigh and continued eating. If _my _parents saw me misbehaving like that, they would've yelled the crap outta me. It was either that his parents loved him very, very much, or they were flat-out scared of him. I was guessing the latter as I shoved some more meatloaf into my mouth. I only had the meatloaf and the rice left on my plate because I'd sorely avoided having to deal with the consequences of bad taste by eating the weird-tasting peas _before _anything else. I'd taken the practical way around it, as I saw it.

Jakotsu scoffed at his greens. "I mean, who _made _these? That filth Soledad? They're gross!" he exclaimed. He smiled cutely like it was nothing. "We should fire her," he said, with a smirk.

"Jakotsu, we _are not _going to fire Soledad," Takeda replied. "She's a very good nanny, for what little we're paying her."

"She's a bee-yatch," his son replied. "She curses at me in Spanish."

Jeanne busied herself by pouring everyone more water. Their water pitcher was blue glass, and it had some lemon slices floating around in it. Takeda gladly accepted the water, downing it with a stressed gulp. "Well, Jakotsu, it's called 'compromise,'" he said softly. They way he talked to him was just a kick and a half- he talked slowly and gently, like he was walking on eggshells around him. Like he didn't want to get him in a tantrum. "If you want her to stop, you have to _compromise _and stop to think about what's _making _her react the way she does. Humans require some sort of cooperation in order to function correctly in their environment."

"Would you like some more water, Inuyasha?" Jeanne asked, oblivious. I shrugged and she tipped the pitcher. I muttered a "thank you" and stared at glared at the glass.

"But what if there's _levels_," Jakotsu replied. "What if there's _ranks_. I mean. If someone is higher above someone else, there's _re-_spect. Ranks are based on power, and people with more power over others deserve _deference_."

"Everyone is equal, Jakotsu," Jeanne said with a frown. "All men were created equal. Don't they teach you that in religion?" She shook her head disapprovingly.

"All _men_," he said. "_Men_ is the key-word. Women-filth don't deserve shit. But. Not everyone is equal. Some people rise above others."

"Why don't we get off this topic," Jeanne suggested. "So! Inuyasha- I hear you're a big fan of music."

I glared at Jakotsu, who waved limply, with a grin. I kicked him under the table. "Uhmm. Yep."

"That's good," Takeda said. "What kind of music?"

"I dunno," I said, glaring at Jakotsu, who was now mouthing profanities and doing something sick with his fork. I rolled my eyes and replied, "Contemporary." Hey, it's not _lying_- it's expanded vocabulary.

Jeanne "hmmm"-ed and Takeda nodded. "Contemporary? As in…hmm. Rock music?"

I shrugged. "Yeah I guess."

"Well, I'm not too much a fan," he said, "but I do like some classic rock. Are you into jazz?"

"Uhh sure," I said, drinking my water. Jakotsu mouthed, "Liar!" with a big smile. Hiding my face from his parents, I mouthed back, "Shut up!" He said _something_- I wasn't sure what it was, because as soon as he opened his mouth to say it, I kicked him _hard _in the shin.

He quirked his eyebrow, suggestively. "Wow, you like playing footsy, huh?" he said out loud. He shrugged and reclined, balancing the chair on the two back legs. "Whatever floats your boat, cutie." He winked. I'd _kill _him.

"Jakotsu? Are you finished?" I asked through clenched teeth. "I think you should _finish your food._"

Jeanne nodded. "Yes, that's a good idea. Eat your food, Jakotsu." I smirked at him; he stuck out his tongue at me.

"I don't feel like it," he replied.

"Jakotsu," Jeanne started, "Please."

"But it's so _gross_!" he protested. "And I'm tall enough as it is. And healthy, too."

Jeanne sighed. _"Jakotsu, svp ne me embarrassent pas devant votre ami._" Yup- French. I only remember what she was saying because I remember the expression on her face- worn, tired. Beaten by the fact that her son was an idiot.

"I'm not!" he cried. "What, you think I'm _embarrassing_? This is the way I always act- if you stupid-asses were _here _half the time you woulda known that by now." He folded his arms triumphantly.

"_Vous ne devriez pas parler au sujet des problèmes de la famille devant d'autres, Jakotsu_," Jeanne replied. Even though I didn't know why she was _saying_, but I could tell she was annoyed (because of this I credited her with being sane).

"The _you _shouldn't _make _the problems," he spat, venomously.

Jeanne looked helplessly at her husband. "Takeda? Tell him to stop this. He's _your_ son."

"Jakotsu, remember what I said about compromise," he said.

"And you should remember what _I _said about I-don't-give-a-damn," he retorted.

Takeda sighed in defeat, pushing his square-framed glasses higher up on his nose. "Look- if you listen to your mother, you can leave the table without eating your peas."

"Yay!" he exclaimed, getting up and pulling me with him by the shoulder. He dragged me out and against that Spanish woman as I cried out:

"Thankyoufordinner."

>>>>>>>

"You didn't _say _you were rich," I huffed, sitting down on the office chair.

"Huh? That's 'cause I'm not," he answered, throwing more of the stuff he'd so graciously thrown at me earlier to the side of the room.

I got up, sighing at his lack of cleaning skills, and started to neatly arrange things on the shelf. Idiot. "Then _why_, may I ask, do you have a fucking _nanny_?"

"'Cause my parents don't wanna deal with me," he said simply, fixing his hair in the long mirror next to the white dresser.

I didn't say anything. Here I was, thinking his family was going to be the fucking Ringling Brothers, while all the while, they were normal. Too normal, and they weren't _home _half the time, either, according to the previous argument at the dinner table. So it kinda made you question why he turned out the way he turned out. And now he was telling me that they basically hated him- and I couldn't respond. I didn't know _how _to respond.

"My parents are supposed to be calling soon," I blurted out. Thank the Gods for my parents.

"Are you sleeping over?" he questioned, just as randomly as my last comment. I rolled my eyes. Didn't I just make _that _clear?

"No. It'd give you more chances to do more things to me than I like," I replied. He raised his eyebrows, as if questioning me. "And you didn't have any chances in the first place, so don't even _think _about it."

"Aww, Yasha-"

His speech was interrupted by my cell phone ringing. I reached into my back pocket and clicked the ON button. "Mom?"

"Hi, honey," she said softly. Compared to Jeanne, she sounded gentle. "Listen, we're having some car trouble-"

"_Car trouble_?" I interjected, skeptically. No way in _Hell _was I staying the night _here_.

"Yes. I'm afraid we're not going to be able to pick you up," she replied. "You see, your father's gotten us into an accident on the L.I.E.- and Sesshoumaru has the other car, he's spending the night at Rin's house."

"I'll just walk then," I blurted out. "It's a few blocks away-"

"No, I'm _not _going to let you do that, Inuyasha," Mom said sternly. "Remember that pedophile who was going around Bayside? I love you too much to do that." Suspicion intoned her voice, and she added, "Besides, from _Kagome's _house? Are you aware that Kagome lives in Flushing?"

Shit. I forgot- _that _had been my excuse. I sighed. "I can just walk. It's fine."

"No, you may not," she replied. My mother, while not a normally stubborn person, fiercely protects her little darling angel- _me_, if you didn't already guess- from any harm whatsoever. "Can you get Kagome to drive you?"

"No," I spat. "Kagome doesn't _have _a driver's license."

"I mean her parents," she answered weakly. "Can they give you a ride, sweetie?"

I sighed, remembering how Jakotsu's parents had left right after dinner, and how I don't have a key. Just dandy for me, the human trampoline. "No. Whatever. I'll just…stay over." At this, Jakotsu let out one of his annoying fan girl squeals. I dragged my finger across my neck and paid attention to my mother again.

"…such a good boy. Behave at Kagome's, alright?" she asked.

"Yeah. Sure."

"Alright. Goodbye. Goodnight."

"Yeah," I grumbled, and turned off the phone.

By then, Jakotsu was already setting everything up, getting out a toothbrush and a t-shirt. He _knew _he was getting what he wanted- that was what annoyed me the most about him.

>>>>>>>

_A/N:_ Well…actually I feel kinda bad because it might've not lived up to everyone's expectations, because I was leading everyone on to think that Jakotsu's family was just as fucked-up as Jakotsu…Well, review if you feel so obliged! Sorry for the crappy middle and the spelling errors too- I don't feel like checking it. But I think it's acceptable.

Happy April.


	13. Chapter Twelve

_A/N:_ Reviews, more reviews. And one particularly interesting one, I may add. So! Responses, I suppose.

_Magoleth: _You think? It was kind of long and sort of rambling, I think. And, it isn't much fun for Inuyasha- the poor guy. I love him, and I love torturing him, too. Hehe. Love and hugs.

_Pointy-Eared Archer:_ Mahaha. Long chapters. Well, this one's about eleven pages, and that's sort of long. Sort of. Sarcasm is what Inuyasha seems to live for, I suppose. That and torturing his poor, poor brother. I've never watched Fushigi Yugi, but I've heard of it. Anyway, the fan girlish squeal- well, that's Jakotsu for ya. Or at least Jakotsu as I portray him. I noticed that my Jakotsu is a bit more childish, more air headed than most other people's. I dunno why. So! That's all. P.S.: Well, whatever's closer, love. You know I can't bear to be separated from you for too long. Hahahahah.

_Dragon Pearl1:_ Yeah. It's always extremes for the bastards. Mwaha. It's okay if you don't review, it's probably quite tedious to have to keep reviewing and reviewing and reviewing all the time, so it's fine! It's all good in da hood, yo.

((And this following one was my favorite one, by the way- it's kind of long, so if you wanna skip it and go straight to the chapter, go on ahead))

_Numisma: _I see where you get the bad impression on the constant use of slang and the colloquialism, but the intent is that it's written from the point of view from a teenage brat boy, and as such he's going to constantly use slang and be casual about things- if it were some sort of serious thing I was working on, I'd be conscious of that and write the tone a little different. But, as for now, it'll stay as it is. And, about Inuyasha and Kagome- of course they're not going to act like committed, _normal_ people; they're only fifteen, sixteen at tops. They're doing what basically retarded people their age do, trying to be mature and committed about it but not really getting anywhere. They're childish; you can't be so mature at that age, and it takes more than a couple of years of growth to get to know each other that well.

Also keep in mind that, unlike most first-person narrators and main characters, I'm not _trying _to make anyone like him, and he's certainly not. It can't be read as flowery aestheticism, but more so as an account of events; he's not the sort to lie, and I've characterized him as I please, to be very blunt and very bitter in his demeanor. It's supposed to incorporate his changing over time, and I can't make him all flowers and sunshine at the very _beginning_, now.

Also, in response to the casualness of the fic- it's to get inside his _head_. He's a stupid teenage boy; he'll like to include tidbits and things about his life, as it gives a better insight as to who he is and what he does normally. And some of the pointless scraps are previews to what happens later, to indicate some sense of the later chapters, and some are more insights into the characters. I wouldn't know how to characterize them, because the manga/anime really isn't _set _in normal times; so I suppose the reason being for the more-than-slightly off characterization is that they live in _modern _times in this fic, and you can't exactly act like that in normal society and still be presentable.

I'm actually sort of pleased with the fact that I got a bad review- it's at least the truth.

>>>>>>

_Chapter Twelve_

Two-'o'-clock at night and the Good Ol' Sandman (who I have resolved to murder) still hadn't visited me. I turned on my side, staring into the bookshelves next to me. I felt _disgusting_- I hadn't brushed my teeth, for one thing, and for another thing, I was wearing _Jakotsu's _clothing. And if you can think of anything more torturing, you must _be _Jakotsu.

I sighed softly. Why the hell was I here? I asked myself that question one too many times lately, and I didn't like it. Was it a car accident? Or was it all my brother's fault? Did I bring it on myself? Or did that bastard _Miroku _cause what was presently happening.

And, from out of nowhere, a voice came, soft and gentle. "Inuyasha?"

I bit my lip. "What?" I asked, groggily, picking up the Magic 8 Ball and giving it a few random shakes.

"You wanna play…Twister?" Jakotsu asked, voice cracking.

I sat up and raised an eyebrow. "Twister," I repeated.

"Mmm-hmm," he hummed, low. My guess was he was half-asleep, but you can't tread _too _lightly around potential rapist teenagers. I craned my neck to look at the bed, where he was back-facing me.

I glanced at the clock: 1:57 A.M., and counting. "It's 1:57, Jakotsu," I said. I added, "In the morning. _Why_ do you wanna play _Twister_ at 1:57 in the _morning_?"

"Sure," he replied. I blinked for a second and laid back down into the thin blanket he'd laid on the floor for lack of an in-one-piece sleeping bag, exhausted. I rolled over. The _reason _I couldn't go to sleep was because I could _feel _the fucking hard wood _stabbing _me. I would have rather slept on the couch- but, apparently, "Nana" thought her room was possessed by Beelzebub. I was beginning to see where Jakotsu got his genes from.

Casting aside the Twister offer, I settled myself down, when I started to hear tapping on the window.

I sat up again, this time letting out a primate-like growl of frustration. "Am I _ever _gonna get to sleep tonight?" I asked hopelessly. I rolled up the smaller blanket that I'd wrapped around myself and threw it at the window. Good. Goddamn birds. Teach them to mess with Inuyasha Miyazaki…

Oh Holy Father of Jesus Christ. I sound like my fucking brother.

Nonetheless, I figured I would get _some _sleep now- whether I was talking about myself in third-person or not. I laid back down and closed my eyes, closing myself off from the rest of the world.

…Until the tapping started again. This time I _jolted _up and threw a sandal at the window. "Keep it the fuck _down_!" I hissed, as if the stupid animal that just _waltzed _on up and _decided _to torture _me _could hear me. Actually, that was a good thought- _why _did God _hate _me so fiercely? The tapping stopped; I wondered about this new thought and closed my eyes. And the tapping came again, this time louder, more like _knocking_, more insistent.

I let out a threatening growl from the back of my throat. "Damn _thing _is _really _fuckin' irritating me," I said, resolving to stop the tapping once and for _all. _I fished my can of mace out of my jeans pocket and started towards the window, groggily.

I pulled back the white curtains and unfastened the latch. Jakotsu, surprisingly, for such an erratic, hyperactive lunatic, was a heavy sleeper. That was _one _good thing for me. I pulled up the windowpane, and choked back a scream as I was came upon a _person_, climbing up the side of the house, throwing some kind of rope at the window.

I didn't know how to react- hey, you'd be scared out of _your _wits, too. It could be a murderer! My mind whirled around. Jesus Christ! A murderer! Or a rapist! Oh God…what if it was some sort of _serial killer_? I clutched the glass of the window and froze up. I _had _to _do _something- but I couldn't! Shit! This guy had a rope, God knows what he'll _do _with it, Inuyasha Miyazaki you'd _better _fucking _do something_- before I got killed!

The guy was approaching; I didn't know what to do, until my fingers brushed against the can of mace. I grasped the can anxiously.

And like the speed of light, I was almost face-to-face with the murderer. He looked up. "Hey, you're not-"

"GO TO HELL, MURDERER SCUM!" I yelled, almost pissing in my own pants, and, like a blind idiot, held the can of mace to the side of the house and sprayed hard and fast.

"AHH! What the _hell_ are you doing!" Murderer-Man asked, falling backwards and clawing desperately at his now-damaged eyes. I smirked as he fell back, long braid flying up against the force of gravity- wait. Braid. Where had I seen a _braid _before?

Jakotsu was now up, approaching the window and stopping behind me. He rubbed his eyes. "Yasha? Why're you up? Wha's with all the noise?"

My face fell. Shit. I just murdered that…that guy! With the braid! OH SHIT. I _murdered _someone. Oh Gawds…

He was now lying in a heap on the grass below, shouting profanities. "WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU YOU'RE GONNA _WISH _YOU HADN'T BEEN BORN!"

Oh. My. God. "Hey! Keep it down, don't you people have some respect!" Jakotsu yelled out the window. He looked down, and saw the braided guy, tangled in rope, crying. "Hey…who's that, Yasha?" he asked, pointing.

I tried to reply but nothing came out. I was _so _gonna get sued for this…all of a sudden, Jakotsu's face lit up. "OH!" He laughed. "_Baaaaannnnnkoooootttsssuuuu_!" he called, waving. Now I remember- Bankotsu. The short guy who hated me. "Hi-hi!"

Bankotsu stopped shouting for a minute and lifted his head up. His eyes were fierce red and tears rolled down his cheeks. He forced a smile. "Jakotsu! Hey."

"Why're you crying?" Jakotsu asked. He chuckled. "Are you sad I couldn't whisk you on up here?"

"No!" Bankotsu protested. He rubbed his eyes. "Shit- Jakotsu?"

"Yuh-huh?" he answered. I blinked. Jakotsu was _really _dumb.

I heard Bankotsu cough a little bit. "My eyes- I can't _see _anything. Could you- uhm. Get me some ice or something?"

"Sure thing, handsome," Jakotsu called back, with a wink. He turned his attention towards me. "I'm gonna go get him ice," he said, matter-of-factly, like it was _world _knowledge, and rushed down the hall, bare feet tapping against the polished hardwood floor. I turned back to the spot where Bankotsu was now staggering up from the ground. I grimaced.

He looked up, and, apparently not liking what he saw, returned the whole-hearted frown. "What was _that_, moron!" he yelled up to the window.

"I should be askin' _you _that question!" I croaked, my voice hoarse from the yelling I did before. "What type of _psycho _climbs up someone's _house _in the middle of the frickin' night!"

"I do it all the time!" he shouted back. For some reason, he turned fierce red, I could see that under the bug light outside. Well, there's another person I can add to my list- me, Kouga Kurasama, and Bankotsu I-Don't-Know-What. "You wouldn't _know, _would you, you mutt-bag?" I winced. I could _really _kill this guy if I was where he was. "Why are you _here_, anyway?"

"Feh. I'm sleeping over- what's to _you_?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged. "Nothin'."

"Well, that's something we can both agree on," I replied with a frown. He frowned back.

This was the start of a beautiful friendship, I realized, between Inuyasha Miyazaki and Bankotsu Something-Or-Other.

Jakotsu ran across the lawn in just his St. Midroko's lacrosse team t-shirt with a Ziploc bag filled with ice and dripping with water. "Here you go, Ban-chan!" he said, cheerily, kneeling down and putting the bag to Bankotsu's left eye.

Bankotsu put his hand over the Ziploc. "Ah, thank you, Jakotsu," he said.

"No problem," Jakotsu replied. "You're like really hot. I wouldn't want you damaged." He looked up to me, half-hanging out the window, hair rushing over my face in spite of the wind, and gestured for me to come down. I shook my head. He pouted. "Aw, c'mon, Yasha, come meet my bestest friend!"

"No thanks," I said, eyeing Bankotsu. "We've met before."

>>>>>>>

Despite my excuses, I had to go down, anyway- for boredom and for the fact that Jakotsu would _not _leave me alone if I didn't.

I sighed and marched down the stairs, lightly despite the mood I was in- an angry mood; a stomping mood. I mean, I didn't want Jakotsu's granny to get the wrong idea…I shuddered. Crazy Catholic old maids were the worst thing ever to deal with, especially crazy Catholic old maids who thought you were screwing their grandson.

Bankotsu and Jakotsu were already down there, with Jakotsu chattering about something inane and probably stupid while boiling coffee and Bankotsu was pressing the ice to his head, faking a smile. I folded my arms and sat down, sulkily, at the table.

"…I mean, isn't it just _dee_-lightful?" Jakotsu ranted on. He muttered a curse under his breath about "stupid boiling water" and got out some cups, sitting down next to Bankotsu and I. "Muh best friend," he said, smiling wicked, "and my boyfriend at one table together. Isn't that nice?"

"I'm NOT your boyfriend!" I exclaimed, maybe a little too loud- if that woman came into the kitchen armed with a crucifix and John Paul II's portrait, I'd be in for it.

Jakotsu rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but you have no say in this. So I'm right, you're wrong, deal with it." He smiled charmingly and kicked him under the table again. I suspected he would be forming some very ripe bruises in the morning- maybe _that _would prevent him from bloodying me up the way he liked.

"Feh. I'd sooner date Richard _Gere _than _you_," I grunted, distracting myself by turning to the window. I really was annoyed by Jakotsu, for one thing- I don't think I can ever stress it enough. There was just something about this guy that really, _really _didn't sit too well with me.

For a second thing, I sorta got the sense that _maybe_, just _maybe_, Bankotsu disliked me very much. It was this weird thing about him that he'd twitch whenever Jakotsu would say weird kissy-goo-goo shit to me. Well, he could shove _that _up his rear-end, because no _way _did I take interest in _Jakotsu. _That would be just _sick. _Yeah, I didn't care, anyhow- Bankotsu could frolic wherever he so wanted to choose with Jakotsu and it wasn't any concern of mine.

"And let's hope it _stays _that way," Bankotsu said with a ghost of a smirk. I scowled.

"Wishful thinking," Jakotsu hummed, pointedly, breaking the tension. I rolled my eyes. He always had to say _something _stupid.

"So," Bankotsu began. "Jakotsu, why don't you get that coffee?"

"Sure-sure Ban-chan!" Jakotsu squealed, rushing up to the counter. Jakotsu and Bankotsu, I realized, had a fierce friendship- and maybe _that _was why Bankotsu didn't like me. I mean, Jakotsu was violently loyal to this Bankotsu character, getting up and doing whatever he wanted, and Bankotsu was a good enough friend to not take advantage.

But I wasn't getting in the way of anything, right? I hadn't done anything. None of this was my fault- it was either Jakotsu's or Miroku's, one of those idiots. But it wasn't mine. And I'd made clear actions to point that out.

Jakotsu came back with the coffeepot. I rubbed my eyes, sleepily. What _time _was it now? I probably looked like a wreck…and I hate for anything to be out of order. He clumsily poured the caffeine-ridden liquid into various brightly decorated mugs, the pot tipping over and making a translucent brown puddle on the birch table. He shook his finger- he'd burnt himself making the stupid stuff. He sat down and took the sugar jar from the middle of the table.

Bankotsu got up and looked for something in the way of cream in the fridge while I sat there, clearly uncomfortable. For me, it was weird to be in someone's house like this. It was weird to have to serve myself. Usually people cared too much about what-goes-where and shit like that- but here was some weird kid with a braid, looking through the refrigerator of someone else's house.

I sighed. This was all too comfy-cozy for me. I _was not_ going to get settled in here. Instead, I sat, tensed up, shoulders hunched, frozen at the kitchen table.

Jakotsu seemed to notice. "Yasha? Whassamatter?" he asked, screwing off the lid of the jar.

"Nothing. Really, I'm fine. Considering is how I just got a full nine hours of sleep and am now lying peacefully in my bed while the morning sun rises," I replied, with the obligatory eye-roll.

"No you didn't," he pointed out, smiling. "So don't say it."

"Tch. Who the Hell're _you _to tell me what I can and can't say?" I asked, sticking out my tongue. I eyed Bankotsu, who was now quizzically looking at a box of blueberry waffles. Compared to Jakotsu, he was _quiet_. Quiet and observant.

"I'm GOD," he replied. "I'm JESUS."

"I'm sure you are," I said, idly fingering the handle of my "I Heart U Mom" mug.

"I'm the ruler of the _world_," he said, with an aggressive smile on his face, his gray eyes wide and glittering with that now-familiar psychosis. He stretched his arms over his head. "I'M THE CENTER OF THE _UNIVERSE_!" he yelled, loud and clear.

"WOULDYA QUIET DOWN ABOUT IT!" I half-yelled, hitting him on the head. He rubbed the side of his head, one eye closed.

Bankotsu looked back at me and scowled. "How about _you _quiet down, you hot-air filled piece of crap?" he asked, frowning deeply. I could tell _he _hadn't gotten any sleep either- the dim light of the bug zapper outside reflected his face so that I could see the pale and the dark under his eyes. I could also see his eyes were still red and glazed over with water, a little swollen, too- the product of my paranoia.

"And how 'bout _you _skip off to Fairy-Land to get your _braid _a little less tight?" I snapped, the same tiredness snapping at the heels of the words as they went along.

"Are you trying to start something!" Bankotsu replied, all-to-threatening, considering the puny size, the girly braid, and the box of Pop Tarts he was now clutching onto. Jakotsu was humming some incomprehensible tune to himself and doing God-knows-what as his best friend and I spent some bonding time together.

I scoffed and smirked. "_Real _scary, Smurf-kotsu. And while you're at it, why dontcha put on a pink baby doll dress and skip around to 'I've Got You Babe' to make me even _more _terrified than I already am?"

"Maybe I _should_, considering that _someone _here has some kind of _fetish _for-" he stopped, a shocked expression gracing his face. "Ja-Jakotsu…?"

"_Whaaat_?" I asked, and turned around to Jakotsu- who was now holding the sugar jar upside-down into his coffee, a MOUNTAIN of white grainy stuff surrounding his cup. My mouth hung open.

"I-isn't that a little _too much _sugar?" Bankotsu stammered, in horror.

"Hmm? Wha?" Jakotsu asked, rubbing his left eye.

"Lay off the sugar, you psycho," I demanded, snatching the jar away from him.

Realizing that his sugar was, indeed, gone, he looked up to me and pouted. "Aww, Yasha! What was _that _for?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Lemme put this in plain words for you- Jakotsu plus sugar plus _other guys in the house_ equals: prison for Jakotsu." I shook the sugar jar, frowning. "Why would I give _you _the chance to _rape _me, you fuckwit?"

"'_Caaauuuuse_ I'm cute," he replied with a broad smile. "Could I get it back now?"

"No!" I exclaimed. Bankotsu now looked very relieved that someone had put a _stop _to the madness before Jakotsu _killed _someone. Just call me Ishmael.

"Aww, you're no fun," he pouted. "_Pllleeeeeeaaassseee_?"

"Shut up," I retorted, and that was that. I had won and Jakotsu sulked while I sipped some of my bitter, dark coffee, satisfied with myself. Bankotsu strolled over, creamer in hand, smiling.

"Hey, it's okay, Jakotsu," he managed to say. "Look, creamer's good, too, it sweetens it up just the same."

"I'm lactose-intolerant, dummy," Jakotsu said, with a wide, _suggestive _grin. "But…we _could _make _other _uses for that cream…stuff? What was it called?"

Bankotsu raised an eyebrow. "Uhh. No, thanks. And it's creamer."

"Eew," he said, face scrunching up in disgust. "That stuff's nasty. It's all weird and it feels like velvet…bleh…"

I rolled my eyes. "Velvet. How can a _liquid _smell like velvet, again?"

"'Cause it's smooth and weird," Jakotsu replied. "And that's what velvet feels like. I want cereal!"

I gave him a thumbs-up as he marched up from his seat at the table and scanned the kitchen. "Congratulations. You've finally discovered the meaning of life."

He ignored me. "What do we have in the pantry, now?" he asked in a singsong voice, jumping on the counter and looking through a drawer above the stove. He looked at a box of wheat-goodness with a smiling old man on the cover. Scowling deeply, he tossed it aside, resulting in the box landing in the dish rack with a _crash_.

"You dumbass! You just broke a dish!" I growled, while a box of oatmeal crashed against the table. It slid across the wood; I grasped my coffee, just to be safe.

"So what," he shrugged, sounding preoccupied and still rummaging through the seemingly endless pantry, "I'll just blame Soledad for it."

I rolled my eyes. "That's evil," Bankotsu said, shoulders shaking with a small, lighthearted laugh.

Jakotsu put his hands on his hips. "Well, it's not like she doesn't deserve it!" he protested. "She's a woman-filth and because of it I just decided that she deserves it. Besides, she's a meanie."

We stayed silent until Jakotsu let out an "Ah!" and returned from the pantry, victorious. He shoved a box of berry Kix in my face. "I found it!" he announced, excitedly. "Wanna have some, Yashie?"

"Whatever," I muttered, pushing the box back his way. Truth be told, I _was_ kind of hungry- and having someone wait on me was just all the more fun.

He stood there, and smiled. I raised an eyebrow, noticing him staring at me. "What?" I asked, bluntly. "I _said _I wanted some."

"Gosh, Yasha," he said, slowly, "you're gorgeous."

My muscles tensed up. I stared at him and scowled, squinting at him against the rising sun. His smile only got wider. I could see Bankotsu looked at me with a cautious, pissy expression on his face, and it was all I could do not to strangle them both. Jakotsu giggled and proceeded to get out bowls. I tapped the tabletop. Bankotsu sipped his coffee.

Jakotsu got me my cereal and laid it down in front of me, a satisfied smile on his face. Actually, he didn't do much else than smile- and that made me afraid, a little bit. It made me scared that someone actually knew what they were doing so well that they smiled about it.

>>>>>>>

Bankotsu'd left right after breakfast, thank the Holy Heavens. I don't think I could've taken fighting with him for any longer.

For such a little guy, Bankotsu was full of energy- too much energy. And it was rapid, violent energy, too, so he was _always _up to fighting with me. And, much as I hate to admit it, he was pretty smart- so the insults kept flying back-and-forth between us, like a volleyball over some unknown net that separated us. Me and Bankotsu, actually, were pretty much the same- save that fact that he was more submissive and less stubborn than me. But we were the same- so why didn't we like each other?

Well, the reason for _that _was sitting on my foot right now, watching _U-Pick Live _on Nickelodeon with great interest. "I still can't decide," he told me.

"Can't decide _what_?" I asked.

He flashed a quirky, lopsided smile at me, and slowly said, "I can't decide whether Pick-Boy is hot or not," he replied, airily.

I pushed him off my foot. "You're full of yourself, you know that?"

"Yah. I love me," he said, making a failed attempt to hug throw his arms around himself. Instead, he threw his arms with a little _too _much force, and proceeded to slam his back against the couch. I rolled my eyes. What a loser…

I slammed my back into the couch, heavily taxed with the fact that I'd agreed to stick around until four 'o' clock P.M. His grandma had decided to leave for Church when she was _supposed _to drive me home, and wouldn't be home 'til four-thirty, anyway.

I looked at the clock. And that was about, oh, say, _five and a half hours _away. So I had five and a half hours to putz around with Jakotsu before I could finally be free and get my Global project done. And then maybe make amends with Kagome, and/or irritate my brother for a bit. You know- better stuff. More _productive _stuff. More _worthwhile _stuff than sitting in a virtual Ikea showroom and watching re-runs of _U-Pick Live _on Nickelodeon and listening to some kid jabber on about who's cute and who's not on a fucking _kid's _show.

I shifted in my seat as soon as I felt Jakotsu's head leaning against my leg. "Cut it the fuck out," I snarled, curling myself up into an unhappy ball, much like the one on the Zoloft commercial.

"Cut what out, Yasha?" he asked, eyes glued to the television.

"_You'd _know, joy boy," I replied, rolling my eyes. He shrugged and continued to watch.

Thirty more minutes into being on the couch and doing literally nothing but carrying on life processes, Jakotsu got up, with one of those _looks _on his face. In the possible month I'd known him, I knew this look most of all, mostly because what usually followed was _trouble. _It was this weird look, a wicked, maniac grin slapped on his face, his eyes suddenly wide and bright, and was usually accompanied with a hand gesture. That or pulling me up from where I was.

"What's the _look _for?" I asked lazily, looking up at him.

He smiled and blinked slowly, and, again in that ooh-I'm-secretive-and-I-expect-you-to-buy-it voice, said, "Nothin'."

"Okay then," I answered, raising an eyebrow. A couple of more minutes of silence passed before I asked, "Where's the remote?"

"I have a great idea," he declared, ignoring me. "Let's go out."

I frowned. "Now, if I _could _go out, why the _Hell _wouldn't I be at home, can I ask you?"

"'Cause you love me?" he said, almost as if it was a question. I raised an eyebrow as if to ask him where he got _that _idea. And, due to my silence, _another _idea popped into his head, as he _threw _his arms around me and squealed, "YAY! You see, you do _so _love me."

"Sure I do. When you're gone." He gave me the ritual tongue-stick-out and I shook my head, astonished at what a _child _he could be. "'Sides, I've _got _a girlfriend, and I don't need any _other _hazards. Especially not _male _hazards. So no thanks."

"Pffft," he spat, pouting and looking thoroughly disappointed. "What does she got that I don't? I'm probably prettier and smarter and nicer, and, on top of _that_…" He bit his lower lip, smiling like it was nothing. "I'm better with my _hands_…"

"Your hands. Yeah. Listen, why don't you and your _hands _make use for yourselves at a whorehouse and leave _me _the fuck alone," I replied.

"I'm not a whore!" he snapped back. He let out an insane burst of laughter, and then added, "Well, maybe just a teensy-weensy bit. C'mon, let's go out. _Puh-leeezzz_?"

"_No_," I returned, firmly. I raised an eyebrow at the sudden puppy-dog-eyed look he had on, and added, with a sneer, "And don't think you'll get me to come by doing any _favors _for me, ya sick bastard."

He rolled his own eyes and sighed, exasperatedly. "Oh, you're no _funnnn_, Yasha." He plopped back down on the floor, head placed solemnly in his palm. "What _should _we do, then?"

I shrugged, tired of being the Brain all the time. "I don't know. _You _think of something, Pinky."

He thought silently for a long time, and then let out, putting his head in his hands:

"Gah, I dunno."

I scowled. "Well, _you're _sure a thinker!" I barked. "And you don't help, either. You're the one who _lives _here, for Christ's sake. You think of something."

"Thinking hurts me," he said, with a simple shrug. "And it's not so fun, either. Mou, I don't know…what _is _there to do around here, anyways? I don't like my house, 'cause all I ever do is go over Bankotsu's. And Renkotsu, but I don't like him. He smells. What do _you _feel like doing, _In-u-yash-ahh_?"

I winced at the slow, steady pronunciation of each dragged-out syllable he said with my name. Like it was the best fucking name on the whole wide planet Earth. "Well, if I _knew _what we were going to be doing," I snapped, "we wouldn't be bored. Just lemme think…"

He, however, had other plans. "Let's play a board game!" he yipped with excitement. "We can play Life. I'll go get it. You stay here." Off he dashed like a bunny to the bunny-hutch to get his inane, retarded board game. I sat down on the floor with my arms crossed. Life. I _hated _that game.

Aside from the fact that I _lost _terribly at every game I played, I just did _not _like the game. The board was just too damn hard to put together, and those stupid little annoying chips spilled all over the place, and every time I didn't get to go to that goddamn-stupid-ass rich-people retirement place, I got so disappointed for some reason. And I'm _sure _Jakotsu _loved _the game; he was in love with everything I hated.

The box he came back with was more than _slightly _dilapidated, the edges flaring up and the cardboard curling back. The multicolored letters were faded and cracking up along the length of them, and the board itself was as messed up as anything.

A quarter into the game, Jakotsu had to get…married. "So what?" he breathed.

"So what _what_?" I replied.

"Do I, like, hafeta get married to a woman-filth?" he asked, putting a finger to his chin quizzically. "Or could I get one of those _fine _little blue guys?"

"Whatever," I answered, my eyes rotating to the ceiling. "I don't care. Just get over with it."

He smiled. "Okey dokey…which one of you naked little blue guys do I wanna take home with me? Hmmm…"

"They _all _look the _same_," I reminded him, mouth slightly twitching at the corner for the irritation of it all.

"Nuh-uh," he said, shaking his head. He held up two little blue guys, one for each of my eyes to behold, in front of my face. "Lookit _these _two."

I examined them for a moment, but all I saw was plastic blue humanlike pegs with no arms and one leg. "Yeah? So? They both look the same."

He held them closer, a determined and focused expression on his face. "No, you gotta look _closer_," he said, edging them into near contact with my face. I peered closer at them, squinting.

And there were differences. One of them was slightly bigger than its left-side counterpart, though the smaller one stood straight while the bigger one stood crooked, as if its stature wasn't enough to keep it noble and clean. The smaller one was a more faded blue, the head bearing a chipping little plastic thing in the way of a scar, while the bigger one was bold, with no outward scars. "Yeah, whatever," I mumbled in reluctant agreement, pushing his hands away from me.

It's funny how things look when you see them close-up.

"So, which one should I take?" he asked himself, digging through the box. Finally he retrieved one; a normal one, completely fine, with no disfigurements or anything.

>>>>>>>

About an hour later, he won the game. We played it over and over until I won and we decided to move onto another game, Scrabble, this time- and just as soon as Jakotsu got it all set up, the door to the house opened, the throaty, croaky, steel-iron voice of his grandmother calling me to come back home.

>>>>>>>

_A/N:_ I'm actually thinking of doing another fan fiction, too; casting Sesshoumaru as a pedophile and the 12-year-old Rin as the object of his affections, very Lolita-esque. And man do I love that book.

I've fallen out of habit of writing a chapter every day; and I _do _want to get back into that habit, because it was good…a chapter a day keeps reviewers at bay. Okay I'm retarded. Buh-bye!


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_A/N_: Okay. So I'm a retarded shitface. Hey, but you're only saying that because I'm black. Oh shit. It's, hmm, what? 6:18 in the morning? I need my Mexican breakfast. Hahaha. You know, everything is so much cheaper in Nevada? In New York, say, cigarettes are like $6.50. Here they're $3.50. The hell with the East Coast. I can't stand the amoral, temporary, big-city lifestyle anyway.

_**Review Responses**_

Actually, before I start these, I don't suggest you read all of them. Actually, I suggest you scan for your own name and then read your response only. Unless, of course, you're bored and stuck with nothing else to read. Then it's totally okay. So, go for it.

_**Review Responses**_

_Pointy-Eared Archer_: I'm so sorry, m'love. I've been away for so long. I am, indeed, a restless kind...oh my God. Shit. I'm a rotten pirate hooker. I'm really sorry...Anyway, about Richard Gere- you hit the bulls eye! My sister and I have jokes about him, too...him and MEL GIBSON. Haha. Anyway, that's the thing with me, about how I write, the characters always seem not like they are in the show because I tend to adopt them, make them mine, shape their opinions and everything. I'm too goddamn drifty. Maybe he (Jakotsu) is, in actuality, very sadistic and overbearing. But that's another person's Jakotsu, another writer's Jakotsu, and this is mine. Actually, I don't even get the feeling that I'm writing for an anime when I start writing. I always write like it's my story. Is that weird (oh, by the way, did I mention that I hate Jakotsu's voice in the American dub? it annoys the Jesus creeping shit out of me. Why does he have to sound like such a woman for Christ's sake)? I hope this new chapter makes up for my scandalous abandon of you, dear. I really do. Is the wedding still postponed, because I have this lovely update I think would go great on you! Ahaha.

_Dragon Pearl1_: I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I am a jerk. A horrible person, indeed. It sounds insincere. I guess it's in your perception...but I am sorry. Anyway, thanks for the spam. I love it. I love you guys. Anyway, you do have to love borderline-platonic pairings...it's the whole "unrequited love, question mark?" thing that really gets you going on it. Is your computer okay now? I recently got my old laptop fixed, but all my shit got erased and I'm pisssssssssed. Gracias for the review. Did you read my other story? The Sesshoumaru/Rin pairing? SCANDALICIOUS.

_Vitamin R_: I'm glad you like it. I got kind of freaked out about the whole C2 thing. I didn't really know what was going on...but I do now, so, thanks!

_Venetus_: I notice that about a lot of things I write- people love one character in particular. In this, it's Jakotsu- and you know what? I'm glad he's not annoying. Because I took some time writing him up. That was a horrible lie. Anyway, I hope you continue reading.

_Butterflywings_: Thanks for the review. I took sort of long (fuck, really long) to update, because I was at sort of a bridge. You see, I knew what was going to happen _after_ I wrote this chapter, but I didn't really know how to bridge that chapter to the previous one...so it was tough. Because I'm retarded.

_DanniWolf_: CHAMPIONSHIP. I got a fucking ten! Haha. That's always good. I love getting reviews. I'm like a review whore. Hahahahaha. That struck me as funny. I hope I didn't make anyone too angry, now...anyway, thanks!

_Japanimeniac_: Haha. No, I'm probably more retarded. Well, we can all be retarded. So it's a retardation truce, I suppose. If you read later into the story, being like Jakotsu gets better for you. This is only the beginning- I haven't even started to develop the characters yet. A lot of people want characters to be face-value, like, GUNSHOT- and that's them, right there. But, me being the Dostoevsky freak I am, I like the psychological aspect of characters. Maybe I humanize them too much. I don't know.

_Irken PopTart_: Really? I must admit it gets a lot less funny as it goes deeper into the story...there'll always be your humorous parts, but not as much as in the beginning...I appreciate your liking it. I think it's pretty hard to get people to read into a new type of genre, and I respect your being open-minded. A lot of people are Bankotsu/Jakotsu fans. I've tried to write up stuff for them, I really have...but my writing's limited. Haha. Thanks for reviewing, and enjoy the rest!

_Touya-no-Kogakure_: Are you hassling me again because I'm gay? HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA. Oh shit. Oh lord. Hahahaha. Gawds. I'm full of myself. Anyway, here it is! The fucking update. No, I'm not being mean. I must sound mean. Hope you enjoy.

**>>>>**_Chapter Thirteen_

Okay. So I fucking liked the CD.

Even now, driving around Northern Boulevard at seven in the morning I had it playing, blasting the easy mandolin of Rod Stewart's _Every Picture Tells A Story_. Could you blame me? All I ever knew was System of a Down and Green Day and Relient_ K_, for Christ's sake. All the debasing music of the shit generation. I had no access to my brother's music, and I sure as Hell never listened to Miroku. But now here I was, listening to _Rod Stewart_, a man who, until just recently, I would've rather _died_ than listen to a _minute_ of his cheesy ballad music. Jesus Mary and Joseph, I knew the _words_.

I stopped several times to consider the fact that I might be getting sucked into the wormhole of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Was he rubbing off on me? I studied myself in the rearview mirror. Did I look any different? I could see signs of lost sleep, but that didn't mean anything. It wouldn't mean anything. I mean, it _couldn't_ mean anything.

I decided I wouldn't bother with it and continued to drive along. Right now I had something more practical to worry about- namely, a degenerate named Miroku Conlan who was waiting for me to pick him up in front of August Moon.

I pulled up in front of the store, where Captain Faggotorious was sitting among what must have been six or seven cardboard boxes, smoking a cigarette and holding up a hitchhiking sign that said, "I Won't Hurt You If You Don't Hurt Me." I rolled my eyes as I honked the horn. He turned to me and tossed his cigarette onto the sidewalk.

"I was convinced you wouldn't come," he said, holding up the sign. "I had to improvise."

"Improvise my ass. Get in the car or I _will_ hurt you," I answered.

"Someone's feisty," he said, as he was back to the boxes and picked one up. "Pop open the trunk? I just have to get these in here."

I opened the trunk and let him do the work. After the first two boxes, however, the usual Inuyasha kicked in. I sighed exasperatedly and hopped out of the car and picked up a box, following him and stacking them neatly.

"What're these for, anyhow?" I asked, taking the last one. They were heavy, like they had computer equipment or guns in them.

"Just some business I have to take care of," he replied. "It's just a small delivery to a friend of mine named Stephen- I believe you've met him? The Spanish man. Anyway, it's just some business. I need some money."

Business for Miroku, last time we went through this, meant smuggling illegal computer parts over to Jersey to his techie friend Hachi for five hundred dollars and throwing a huge party afterwards. "Fine," I said, getting into the car and starting it up, "but if it's illegal you _and_ your deliver are outta here, got it?"

"Perfectly," he answered. We paused for a minute, before he added, "After all, marijuana's only, what, Class B illegal drugs?"

"Jesus fucking Christ-"

"I'm joking, Inuyasha, just a harmless joke," he laughed. "You should really lighten up. No, in actuality, it's just a bunch of children's books."

"Children's books?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. What kind of sicko would want _children's_ books?

"He needs to deliver it to a school," Miroku explained. "Do you have cigarettes at your house?"

I grunted. "Yeah, ya addict," I scoffed. "They're my Dad's, though."

"Oh. By the way, how did your day with...Ja..."

"-kotsu," I finished.

He sparked up. "That's it! Jakotsu. How did dinner go?"

"Humph. Predictably," I grumbled. "Only, his parents were normal...it was freaky. They were nothing _like_ that monster. It was weird, though. I don't know why..."

"So, they're normal in a weird way?" he asked, smirking.

"Cute," I said. "I bet you think you're _really_ clever. Don't. Fucking. Sass. Me."

We arrived at Miroku's house a few minutes later and sat in his room. His room was a fucking mess, like a tsunami had hit it. Posters and pictures crowded the paint-stained walls, with a basketball hoop on one side of the room, a stop sign on the other. He had a big, bulky eight-track and a bunch of other weird things he collected. I sat on the bed, under the gold-painted motto: "Those who hesitate, masturbate."

"We should invite some people over," he said, picking up the phone.

"How 'bout we _not_," I answered batting the phone away from him. "'Sides, I don't want a huge thing like last time. You have a real penchant for getting me into trouble, you know that?"

"Elaborate," he said, turning the eight-track on. Led Zeppelin- about the only older band I'm used to by now- blasted into earshot:

"_You need coolin', baby I ain't foolin'/ I'm gonna send ya, back to schoolin'/ Way, way down inside, honey you need it/ I'm gonna give you my love/ I'm gonna give you my love..."_

"Do you recall a little 'party' you invited me to, in which we _all_ got busted for sneaking cigarettes?" I snapped, rolling my eyes.

"When we were twelve?" he asked. "I do remember that...odd that you do. But don't make such a big deal out of it- it was one incident. Besides, we're much older now, wiser, I suppose, but older suffices. It's excusable now. We're in our 'teen' years. The 'difficult' years."

"Feh. Teen years my ass- I'd shoot myself if I acted like a typical teenager," I huffed.

"We all act like it once in a while," he said. "Nothing can stop us from being boring and typical."

"Feh."

"Of course, we are at a stage in life in which we all seem so profoundly interesting to _ourselves_, no?" he continued. "We can delude ourselves any way we wan-"

The muffle of _Warning_ rang from my back pocket. "Yeah?"

"Hi Yasha!" Great.

I rolled my eyes. Miroku cocked his head, with a puzzled expression. I pointed to the phone, implying that, yes, indeed, this was the antichrist on the other line. Miroku nodded. "Listen, do you have to call me _every day_?"

"Why not? You're never busy," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "How do _you_ know?" I asked defensively.

"I just do," he said with that tongue-click.

"Y'know, when you assume you make an ass out of you and me," I answered.

"What?"

"When-you-assume-you-make-an-ass-out-of-you-and-me," I pronounced slowly. "Do I have to spell it?" I paused. "Look, it's just some stupid thing," I said, doing my _hardest_ not to rip my hair out and burn something down. Or, worse, have to _explain _it to him. "Just forget it."

He paused for a long while. "I don't get it."

"It's the way it's _spelled_, ya moron!" I answered. "When you ASSUME you make an ASS out of U and ME! A-S-S-U-M-E! Assume!"

"Oh." He cackled hysterically. "Oh. That's kind of funny. But it's stupid." He inhaled deeply, softly- in that girlie sort of Jakotsu way. "_Sooo_ whatchya doing?"

"What's it to ya?"

"Awm, don't be like that," he crooned. "But, I like that about you. How you're always pissed off at me. It's unique about you. I can't stand typical people."

I paused. Unique? Whatever. I sighed. "Why the Hell're you calling me, again?"

"I'm _booooooored_," he whined. "I have nothing to do. Wanna come over?"

"I'm over a friend's house," I said.

"Pffft," he sighed. "Which friend? I bet I can be better _entertainment_."

I looked at Miroku helplessly. He shrugged. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever you want," I answered.

"Which friend is this?" he inquired. "Don't tell me that filt-"

"His name is Miroku. See, a guy. You happy now?"

"Ooh! Yay! Is he hot?"

"How the Hell would I know!" I barked. "Here, talk to him yourself!" I flung the phone at Miroku, who caught it with a surprised fumble. He smiled- something he did constantly on the phone- and said, "Hello there."

I watched their conversation for a little while. Well, you get the gist. He seemed to be enjoying the conversation, while all the while I wondered how that was even remotely _possible_. Maybe Miroku's more patient than me. Maybe he'd actually _like_ a weirdo like Jakotsu. I wouldn't know.

**>>>>>>**

Well, about half an hour later that royal lesbatron hung up the phone and started to talk to me. I'd been entertaining myself with the pong game he had in his room until he threw my phone into my lap and sat down next to me.

"I feel some sort of energy from him," he said.

"Yeah. It's called ADHD," I said, rolling my eyes.

He grabbed a controller and reset the game. "But in all honesty and seriousness I'm saying this. Blame me for getting hunches, but he seems important to me. Well, not to me. He seems as though he'll be of some importance to you."

"Yeah. And someday, maybe, if we wish _really_ hard, we'll discover the kingdom of fairies and use their dust to fly and fight against the injustices of evil wrongdoers," I said, glaring at him flatly.

He shrugged. "You live, you learn," he said. "Perhaps I'm wrong. But the feeling I get is very powerful. I usually go along with my hunches, but you never know. Aside from that," he continued, shifting into another position, one leg pointing inward and the other bent at the knee, "he seems like a good conversationalist and an interesting person. He seems sincere to me."

Oh God. Jakotsu is an interesting, sincere conversationalist and I act like a typical teenager. What is the world coming to.

**>>>>>**

"Speaking of our conversation on parties earlier," Miroku started.

"Yeh? What about it?" I asked, driving down to the nearby 7-11, _still_ not believing that I chose to skip school with a loser. I'd spent the whole day with him- now it was nine-thirty P.M., close to the time I had to go home. But Miroku is one of those people who can push, and push he does.

He blew a wisp of smoke out the car window and pushed his sunglasses up on his nose. "The two of us got invited to a party."

"Gee whiz. I've been waiting for it all my life. You can't _imagine_," I answered. "What do you want?"

"A Coke slushie," he replied. "And a pack of cigarettes."

"Camel or Marlboro?" He smoked those primarily; once in a while he'd be in the mood to be a pussy and smoke menthol cigarettes.

"Marlboro," he said. "I'll come in with you." He tossed his cigarette- again- onto the sidewalk. Miroku Conlan had no regard whatsoever for the environment. But it wasn't rebellion. I didn't know what it was. I wasn't sure about Miroku, sometimes. He was a sphinx, a Rubik's cube. You could never really figure him out. At least I sure as Hell couldn't.

We walked down the short white-tiled isle near the candy first, the place I went to subconsciously. It was sort of programmed. "About this party," he said, picking out a Scor bar, "it's being thrown by a friend of Kyoukotsu Shu's, from St. Midoriko's."

The party was nothing new. I'd go if there were other people I knew going, but, while some teenagers are jumping up and down when a co-ed party is thrown, it doesn't excite the kids at my school anymore. It was cool in fourth grade, novel and exciting, but the story is always the same- someone is always cool because they were hosting, ecstatic because they were invited, or pissed and/or contemplating killing themselves because they weren't. I was never much of a party person- yeah, like everyone, I enjoy a beer now and then, but I don't like mingling. Besides, the best parties were either Miroku's or, I hate to say it, _Kouga's_. So it didn't have me all _that_ psyched. The biggest news was probably that Kyoukotsu Shu had friends.

"Why're _we_ invited?" I asked, throwing a pack of Sour Straws into the basket.

"That doesn't matter," he said, "what matters is that we are. Do you want to come?"

Well, it _was_ a chance to get away for a while...I hadn't been to a party in, like, what, a year? And plus, it was the golden opportunity to get away from Jakotsu for a while...why was I even _contemplating_ it? This was golden. This was a fucking_ championship_. "Yeah, fine. When's it at?"

"I'll show you the invitation later," he said.

We proceeded to the checkout with the New York Times (after we decided that all music magazines are gay), a huge ass coke slurpee, Sour Straws, a Scor bar, and a pack of Marlboro cigarettes. Fifteen dollars and forty-six cents, tax included, and I was feeling like a golden god.

**>>>>>**

_A/N_: Finally! I spent five hours rushing through that chapter. Hahahah. It's beautiful. I feel like crying. Honestly. Okay. I hope that was good. No. I hope it was fucking spectacular. I hope it was a good comeback. I think I'm going to start writing the next chapter. YES! YES! YES!


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_A/N_: Hahah. I must've finished this chapter a million years ago. I just revised it. It's pretty good, just a little short, and, as _usual_, every single person is out of character. Every. Single. Person. Anyway, I'm not going to do review responses and shit in the chapter, because I'm going to upload the other chapter today, too, and I'm just going to respond then. Did that make any sense at all? Anyway...

>>>>>>>

_Chapter Fourteen_

The November light filtered lightly through the window by my bed. I was already up, cleaning my room. Not that I had any particular _occassion_ to clean my room; I did it habitually. Some people smoked or ate or showered. I cleaned.

Since I'd been over his house I hadn't seen or heard a lot of Jakotsu. It left me content- but it also left this weird silence, this long, outstretched boringness. Jesus Christ- three weeks with that fag and already I was used to the noise, the stupidity, the weirdness of it all. It was like I stepped out of some dream zone. I felt drugged.

School had proceeded as normal; Kagome and I had made up, I was getting straight-As, Miroku was being clandestine, Kouga was being a jock, Holy Hell what was I _doing_ here? Where's all the goddamn noise? Stupidity on a stick. Filet of farce. Bisque of bull. However you put it, I was goddamn bored. I didn't miss him, and I wasn't sad. I was bored. You got used to it.

Well, of course you got used to it. When there's a constant buzzing in your ear, this warning signal every time your phone rang, a consistent _need_ to fucking _camoflauge_ yourself, Jesus Christ did you get used to it.

My phone rang- the first time in a couple of days. I knew instinctively who it was. Nobody else _called_ me but Jakotsu. "Hi."

"Hi," he answered bluntly. From the flat way he said it, he sounded angry. Weird. I wasn't sure Jakotsu was capable of any emotion aside from hyperactive joy… "Look, I need a ride."

"Why?"

"'Cause. Just...I just need a ride. Okay?"

"I'm not budgin' until I hear a reason."

"Can you _please_ just trust me on this one?" he asked, and I couldn't help but feel bad. He sounded desperate. Like one of those pathetic little British orphans who asked Sir for a little more porridge or whatever it is pathetic little British orphans eat.

I heaved a sigh and looked out the window, tapping my fingers on the pane. "Okay. Fine. Where are you?"

"I'm at school," he answered. No thank-you or anything. What was he so upset about that his Catholic school manners deserted him?

"Okay. Fine. I'll be there," I answered.

>>>>>>>

St. Midoriko's was a lot bigger than I remembered it, now looking at it from the porch. It was a tall, brick building with a lawn on the sides and a statue of Mary above the two heavy doors, smiling with her hands open, like she was giving you something. The grounds were deserted; nobody was there, save a couple of Catholic schoolgirls holding their books and a boys' soccer team practicing on the lawn. But the building itself seemed to tower above the grounds, with its tall steeple-like towers, all seeming inaccessible.

I waited for a while on the campus for him until I finally decided to go inside the building. The inside was pretty much like the public school, only not as bright and cheery and fucking sunshiny as it. Only a few projects lined the walls, most of them collaborated for a class decoration, or essays. I looked along the wall- to see him sitting on a bench indifferently, looking like an impatient female lawyer type, legs crossed and one foot tapping.

"Hey, Mr. Sunshine," I greeted.

He looked up, looking altogether disheveled and surprised to see me, like I was some unbelievable Calvin Klein model in my underwear. Like _that_ would ever happen. "Oh. Hi," he said slightly. He picked up his bag and his sunglasses and followed me out the door. I remembered that, looking at him now, in the slacks and button-down shirt and tie, you couldn't even _guess_ he could_ ever_ be gay. He looked totally straight. Just a little weird...

I started the car in silence. Okay. Awkward moment. "So why were you there in the _first_ _place_?" I asked, stepping on the gas pedal and reversing.

"I was...uhmm," he started. He brushed his hair out of his face. "I was there for some stupid detention thing."

I rolled my eyes. "_That's_ why you needed me to pick you up?"

"Yeah." He sank into the heather gray upholstery and closed his eyes. I turned my head to the side, and realized that, Holy Shit, he wasn't that bad-looking of a person. He had his feminine looks, that wide, delicate face, those freaky gray eyes, the longish, wavy black hair, his sloping nose. So why the Hell did he cling to _me_? He could get any other guy he wanted- gay guys were weird enough. So why _me_? "Yasha, take me somewhere."

"Hemmph?" I grunted, heading for his house already.

"I need to get away- oh, Yasha, let's just _go_," he said. "I'm so tired of everything. Wouldn't it be fun, to just go away forever, just you and me? We could start a traveling show. Or be traveling salespeople. It doesn't matter, anywhere or anything. I just need to fucking _go_." He sighed.

I paused. I didn't know how to answer- I mean, it's not really every day that a raging homosexual suggests running away and starting a weird ass traveling job. Answer sarcastically and I might get a bullet to the brain. Answer positively and he might get the wrong idea. I was at a crossroads.

So I answered the intelligent way. "HmphmmIguessyeah."

"I mean, everyone around me is just so disgusting and annoying and blah," he continued, not seeming to get my answer. "Everyone is so simple-minded. Gawds, why are people so stupid and uptight and annoying? I need _real_ people. I need _substance_."

"So _I'm_ a 'real' person?" I asked.

"Yeahs, only you try to be typical," he answered simply. "You're very confined. You should be more free."

My mouth twitched. "Feh. Whatever."

He laughed airily, like the Jakotsu of too many yesterdays- the light, airy, weird Jakotsu. Not the bitter, humanity-hating, weird_er_ Jakotsu. "Oh, Yasha, you're so funny." He sighed, and then lit up again, seeming to forget what he'd been mad about, like a little kid exposed to candy. "HAHA, you know where we should go? We should go to a gay bar." He cackled. "We should act like fags and parade around like cliche gay people._ I wanna take you to the gay bar, gay bar/ something something GAY BAR SUPERSTAR!_" He sent himself into another fit of hysterics, throwing his head back, even.

"There is something_ wrong_ with you," I muttered, rolling my eyes as he laughed.

"You think?" he asked, pulling down the vanity mirror above his seat and tying his hair up into that loop. He smiled gently as he folded the mirror back up. "You see, I like being with you. You're _always_ fun."

"What about Bankotsu?" I asked, trying to decide where to go.

"Oh, you know," he said, in a vague way, laughing a little. The way he spoke about other people, it sounded secret, like a woman who talks bad behind her man's back. "He just gets all emo and stuff. I love him, but sometimes he just gets weird."

"Weird?" I repeated. Maybe Bankotsu...

"Yeah," he said.

"Like how?"

"I dunno," he answered. "He gets all needy. Possessive. Emotional. I can't deal with emo people."

I paused. It sounded like Bankotsu... "It sounds like he has some sorta 'thing' for you," I said cautiously.

He laughed, not at all surprised. "You think?"

"Yeah," I mumbled.

>>>>>>>

We were in some deserted place in Queens where construction hadn't gotten to yet, an open field-type place, with scattered patches of grass and dandelions galore. It'd been behind a large metal fence, just waiting for some Con Edison truck to bulldoze it away.

We were walking around in it aimlessly, with him carrying a boom box he'd taken from home before we got here. "It's gonna break if you carry it like that," I said, noticing the way he held it- like a briefcase, swinging it whichever way he wanted.

"Hmm?" he answered. "Like what?"

"Like _that_," I answered snappily. "Carry it on your shoulder."

"Eeew. I don't wanna look like some dirty Puerto Rican," he said, repulsed. He laughed obnoxiously.

"You're messed up," I observed.

"That's mean," he said. I looked up at the white sun and shivered- how were we so close to the sun but so damn cold? "And vague."

We walked for a little while longer in silence. I shivered a little. I didn't even have my jacket on. I had this thing with jackets, something about them symbolizing security and logic, or at least Kagome said so. Then again, she _was_ her therapists' puppet, and I _did not_ trust that guy, and _would not_, even if he had Mr. Rogers written all over him.

"What do you see in her, anyway?"

I looked up. Jakotsu was still walking. I stopped for a minute, wondering who'd asked that. He turned his head back. "Yasha?"

I realized it was him and not some weird figment of my conscience. "What the Hell kinda question is _that_?" I asked, agitated.

"A good one," he answered cutely.

I rolled my eyes. "Tch. Loser." I sighed. "'Sides, what's your _problem_ with women?"

He hesitated. "Well, it's just...they...women ruin everything. Like, as in, _everything_. Yoko Ono ruined the Beatles. Gweneth Paltrow ruined Coldplay. But they weren't_ that_ good to begin with, they just sounded like U2. And U2 is starting to get stupid, too. Anyway. Rachael Hunter ruined Rod Stewart." He sighed. "Besides, women are just so inferior. They don't think like men. Men are great intellectuals, warriors, musicians, writers, reformers, everything. Women usually just try too hard to make sure they can do whatever men can do, but they usually screw it up. Besides they're all typical and think in black-and-white and vain and stupid and haughty-"

"Yeah yeah," I interrupted. "How can you prove your point like that, anyhow? Those were just examples in music."

"Music is everything, Yasha," he said airily. "Music is love and sex and God and beauty."

"And love, sex, God, and beauty are the only things in life?" I asked.

"And music."

"Fine. But there's other stuff to life, too," I said. I turned my head back up to the sky.

"Like?" he asked. I thought about it for a while. "Well? Go ahead!" he said, _almost_ triumphantly. Almost.

"Like morals and stuff," I answered. "And money. You can't do anything without money. Ambitions. Priorities."

He stopped for a minute, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted like he was taking it all in. He exhaled softly, dreamily. "You're _such_ a pragmatist."

"Well, not _everyone_ is like you, ya know," I answered. "_Normal_ people have priorities. _Normal_ people care about their careers and what they _need_ to do. Dignity."

"Cheap, common, sold, stolen, bought, regained," he answered. "And then you die." He smiled. "We might as well enjoy what we have. Nobody's gonna care how you succeeded in life. Or at least not me."

We stopped talking again, with me thinking hard about his take on things and him doing I-don't-know-what in his disturbing little mind. _Cheap, common, sold, stolen, bought, regained_- was I really that boring and typical?- _and then you die_. No, at least I didn't think so. I was just practical. I wasn't anything like the goddamn idiots my age. I was a pragmatist.

"Okay," he said, stretching his arms toward the sky. "Let's play a game. I'll ask you a question, and you have to answer truthfully. Then you ask me a question and I have to answer truthfully. 'Kay?"

"Fine," I said. "Who goes first?"

"I dunno. I'll go first," he yipped happily. "Who...wait...how many girlfriends have you had, and who were they?"

"Three," I answered off the bat. "There was Trish, in grade school. Then Jennifer-Anne before Kagome. Now it's Kagome."

"Mmmkay," he replied. "Okay, your turn."

"Alright...how about you?" I asked. "Boyfriends or whatever."

"I don't do dating," he said. "It's so formal and awkward."

"So you haven't been in a relationship your _whole life_?" I asked, skeptically. Jakotsu Himekawa, the human cling-on, had stayed out of relationships by _choice_? Who was _he_ trying to fool?

"Well, you didn't say _that_," he answered.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. _Relationships_, then. Ya happy?"

He paused again, as if in deep thought. "I dunno. A lot. I can't remember a lot of them. But I know it's been a lot. Maybe fifteen. Or ten? I really can't remember. Okay, my turn!" Idiot. "Are you a virgin?"

I near choked. Why did that _damn_ question always come up? "Why're _you_ so interested?"

"Don't answer a question with a question," he sang happily, with a grin. Dammit I hate that question shit God please... "C'mon!"

"FINE! YES! I AM _STILL_ A VIRGIN!" I shouted. I looked around- did anyone_ hear_ that? There were a couple of buildings around- but the coast looked clear. I could feel my face burning up red.

He laughed breezily. "You're so funny, Yasha. But...I sort of expected it."

"Huh? What's _that_ supposed to mean!" I barked defensively.

"You just don't strike me as someone who's had sex," he said. He smiled, looked at me sadly, for one reason or another... "You just seem good. You're sweet." He sounded distant, like I was the one who'd made him so screwed in the head.

"Pfft." I raised an eyebrow. "So why'd you ask me if you already knew?"

He shrugged. "I just wanted to see if I was wrong."

"Well, whoop-dee-doo. You have _fantastic_ fucking judgment," I grumbled, giving him a thumbs-up. I was confused, though- how could he tell that? Were there signs? I added cautiously, "Besides, how could you be so sure?"

He smiled. "I can just tell these things." What a vague answer...

"Alright." I sat down on one of the dry patches of grass and looked up. He followed suit. "So, are you one? A virgin, I mean."

"Oh, no," he laughed. "I haven't been. Not since I was, like, thirteen."

"Why do I not find _that_ hard to believe," I answered.

He ignored my comment. "I'm gonna put some music on," he said, opening his backpack. He put in a CD and pressed play; a mellow guitar line with a steady beat entered. He raised his eyebrows and tipped his head back a little, saying with a smile, "Jethro Tull." He ran a hand slowly through his hair, closing his eyes. "Hmmmm."

I sat back further. "Yeah."

"So." He sat forward. "Who's your best friend?"

"Miroku," I answered. "You?"

"I don't have one," he said. "But I like Miroku. He sounds polite, but in a _mysterious_ way. As in, you know there's more than that. And that's he's not really _that_ polite."

Soon we abandoned taking turns, and it turned into more of a conversation than anything.

"The thing is," he continued, answering my former question, "gay people always act so girly and retarded. It's like, were you born with that, or what? A lot of people think being gay is about liking stuff the opposite gender likes. People love being cliché because people are all so inane and mediocre, in the scheme of everything."

I paused and frowned. "So then you don't like gay guys."

He laughed. "Did I say that? Well, yeah. For the most part I've only done…" He turned to me. "You know. Straight guys."

What a moron. "Well, I kinda thought that if a guy does another guy willingly then they're gay," I replied. "But, that's just me."

"It depends. Like, as in." He thought for a while. "As in, you have to love them mentally as well. I read somewhere that gay guys can be physically satisfied by women, too, and for the most part that's true. Well, not for me, at least. But. So it's not really a question of sex and stuff. It's just your head. Mind, I mean. Hahaha. Like, a blow job by a guy is the same as a blow job by a girl. So it depends on your frame of mind, y'know?"

I took that in, confused. I didn't know _shit _about _any _of this. I was totally fucking clueless compared to him. Compared to me he knew the whole _world_. That's what you get when your parents hate you, I guess.

He sat up and yawned. "I'm sleepy."

"Save it." I stood up and looked over the buildings out at the bland sky, wondering how long we'd been here for. "Besides, you can't just say stuff like that about people just because of the way they act or look."

"Yes you can," he said. "Pick any person out for me and I can tell you _anything_ about them. It's not that hard."

"Feh."

"'Only the shallow do not judge people on their looks,'" he quoted. "Oscar Wilde said that. He's my favorite author."

"Isn't _that_ a little shallow?" I returned skeptically.

"No," he said. "Everyone _tries _to be so deep and intelligent by saying that looks don't matter, but people are so simple-minded that they let themselves shine through everything they wear and do and try not to do. Only stupid people can't analyze a person like that. You can just tell what a person is like from the way they make themselves appear."

So much for Catholic manners. "The Bible doesn't say that," I grunted.

"What, _Yaaasha_?" he asked, pulling some dry grass out of the ground and throwing it in the air.

"Take the story of David as an example," I said, "that prophet guy- uhh, Jesse-"

"Samuel," he corrected, turning over on his side.

I rolled my eyes. What, was I _supposed_ to know this damn _Bible _lingo? "_Samuel_, then. _Samuel_ couldn't believe that God chose David because David was so young and…eh. Scrawny." Nice. Make the last part up. Another thing God can check off against me. "But…uh…David ended up being the Golden King or whatever of Israel and…God chose _him_, right. So you really _can't_ judge a book by its damn cover."

"Hmm." He smiled. I frowned. He sighed. "No, but Samuel was just judging on stereotypes. He thought that he wasn't fit to be king _because _he was so young, not because of anything else. So, it was either that he," he started, holding up a finger for each number he recited, "one- was too lazy to analyze him, two- didn't have enough time to really look at him closer, or three- was a bad judge of character."

I grunted. How he beat me at every single fucking conversation, I didn't know. "Tch. Well, I bet you only like Oscar Wilde because he was gay."

He shot up. "I _do not_!"

"I bet you fuckin' do! And I bet you idolize Dorian Gray!" I barked back.

"You're _so_ mean!" he said, laughing a bit. "He was a _sociologist_-"

"Yeah, a _gay _one," I answered.

He threw himself back on the grass, laughing his head off. He sat back up. "Well, _o-_kay. He was gay. But I don't like him just because of that. I mean, I don't like Elton John because he's gay. Actually, I hate the way he acts. He's _such _a bitch. But I like his music. It's the same way with Oscar Wilde, except I don't really hate the way he acts."

I sat down. "Huh."

He looked up at me, still smiling. The sun reflected off his hair. I blinked. "Isn't the truth just liberating?" We looked at each other for a little while. I mean, this _was _Jakotsu. When did he get so intuitive? When did he get so analytical? Since _when _was this insight, this intelligence, knowledge of the _world_, given to him? I didn't remember seeing it ever _before_ this. I _never_ remembered him saying anything slightly intelligent. _Isn't the truth just liberating_?

He threw his head back, laughing.

>>>>>>>

"You got lucky _this time_," I grunted, making a left. "Don't think you'll get off like this again, asshole."

He took another French fry from the Arby's box and popped it in his mouth. "Oh, don't be like that."

"I'm serious," I said, "spill one thing and you're _out_. I swear, if you get _anything _on my car I _will_ murder you. I'll put anthrax in your mailbox. I'll slit your fucking throat if you let a _crumb _fall on my car." Like that _wouldn't_ happen.

"You're so funny," he answered with a smile. He had his sunglasses on- huge, black, Jackie-O sunglasses falling on the tip of his nose.

"Hardy har-har," I said, rolling my eyes.

"By the way," he continued, ignoring my sarcasm, "I'm going to a party on Saturday. Do you want to come?"

I sighed mentally, relieved. "No. I have something to do." Finally- a plausible excuse.

He pouted. "Too bad. What are you doing?"

"Going to a party," I answered. I don't know _why _I hadn't thought of it. I should've- it was so obvious.

"Oh," he said.

Even now, even months after, I still think about the conversation at that stupid damn would-be-construction site, and how things would've been different at some points if we just hadn't told each other the truth and how a lot of shit doesn't happen with the truth, and that, you know what, the truth is overrated, it really fucking is.

>>>>>>>

_A/N_: Well! More out of character-ness. But, the show doesn't really delve psychologically into the characters, so what am I supposed to do? Have shallow, base-emotion robots for people? I'm really at a loss for all this bullshit. Anyway--- onto the next chapter.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_A/N_: Yawn. I sort of just woke up. I finished the chapter before writing the author's note, though, so I didn't _just_ write this whole chapter. Haha. Imagine if I did. Miss-Fucking-Speedy. I drop the f-bomb a lot in this chapter. I couldn't think of any more creative curses. Anyway. Read on!

_**Review Responses**_

Actually, except this part. It's totally up to you.

_**Review Responses**_

_Unsuspectinguke_: What's uke mean? Anyway it's cool that you like it. I really just try to think like him, which isn't hard, because I understand where he's coming from most of the time. Anyway thanks that you like it. I actually thought that it's sort of gramatically incorrect when it shouldn't be, things like that. I pay attention to that stuff. It gets me ticked. So, ciao, and thanks, too. It means a lot that you have a good opinion on it. So it's cool, for me, at least.

_Venomsyringe_: I'm glad you like it, heheh. I always thought of Inuyasha more like the kind of guy who holds a schedule, I don't know why. He seems like a control freak to me. And it's cute, on him at least. I can't stand it when some men are like that. Anyway, gracias for the review. Keep on keeping on.

_Shadowvampiress_: You know, it's hard for him. Hahahaha. Inuyasha, I mean. They're not really in character for, uhmm...the remainder of the story, I guess. Actually, I don't even fucking know. I can never plan that far ahead. I just go with it, I guess. Whatever I'm into at the moment. Like, I'm into music right now. Uhmm. I don't really know what else to say. My mind is sort of strangled, I stayed up all night on coffee and some nicotine and some other stuff and I've been up all night writing things on human behaviour and bands and listening to this one Eric Clapton song for hours and hours. And then I had to go to school. So, au revoir, and thanks for the review.

_Faggot_: Your username's the best! I really should've fucking thought about that. Best! The psychos...whoever he gets with, he's fucked. So it really doesn't matter. Hahah. Anyway, I hope you have a nice day. Beauty, sex, love, God, and music!

_Atrephius_: Hahah. Oh God. I had another story, but it got deleted. For content, I guess..s Anyway, I always saw him more as this control-neat-freak-scheduled-always-on-time sort of practical guy. So I wrote him up like that. But, I don't really like Jakotsu in the show that much, so of course I'll write him up different. It's okay not to write grammatically perfect. I might not even bring them together, I probably will, but in a platonic way, because I don't like physical signs of affection at all because, hey, you can fuck a guy and not love him, right? So physical things have nothing to do with love, for me, at least. Also, I don't like steamy-romance-first-kiss-greatness-yay-puberty type stories, anyway, unless it's done in a realistic or nice way. Also, what's a beta? I'm not too up-to-date on all this lingo jazz, so you'll have to help me out on this one. Anyway, much love. Thank you for reviewing, and for the review, for everything, I guess, and you need to know that I really do like hearing your reviews and stuff, I sound mean and cynical because I'm...I don't even know! Hahah. Anyway, I guess I'll go on with this. So, enjoy!

>>>>>>>

_Chapter Fifteen_

I spun the key ring around my finger, waiting for the door to finally open. I could hear someone from inside scream, "GET THE DOOR!" His father, probably.

A woman opened the door, willowy and tired looking with long black hair and droopy eyes. "Oh. Hold on." She turned her head around. "MIROKU! It's Inuyasha!"

"Whom?" I heard him ask, coming down the stairs.

"_Inuyasha_," she answered, more of a heaved sigh than an answer. I'd feel that way if Miroku was _my_ son.

He smirked. "I don't know any such person."

"_C'mon_," I said through clenched teeth, trying my _hardest_ not to curse at him in front of his mother. Or choke him.

"Alright, alright," he answered, going back inside. "Patience, patience, Inuyasha!" he called, running up the stairs.

I'd _kill_ him. I looked at my watch- seventeen minutes late already. I rolled my eyes and tapped my fingers on the iron railing of his porch.

His mother noticed my _obvious_ impatience. "Thank you _so_ much for taking him to this party," she said, furrowing her neatly trimmed eyebrows and making some weird, waving hand gesture. "I'd drive him myself, but we're just so busy, with Tom's parish sessions and the cleaning and the bills and everything."

"Yeah," I muttered, on the verge of a nervous breakdown. What the Hell did _that_ have to do with my driving him?

Miroku came back down, all ready in all his eccentricity. His mother kissed him on the cheek. "Make sure not to get into too much trouble," she said, lackadaisically, already knowing he would. It was just in Miroku's _bones_, I guess, to be a selfish, stupid pothead.

"_Ciao_," he said, doing that sort of run-skip thing that guys do when they go down the stairs. I just walked down, waving goodbye to his mother.

"Thank you," she called, though I could tell she was only saying it, hands cupped around her mouth, and went back inside the house.

I was dressed typically, in the whole jeans and t-shirt getup, but Miroku, _of course_, looked weird. He looked characteristically Dylan-esque with his worn out jeans and long, brown suede coat and white t-shirt underneath. Of course, it had a Miroku flair- fur around the collar, his aviator sunglasses, and…that _hat_.

"Take it _off_," I said, starting up the car and looking at that godawful hat he wore in the rearview mirror.

"Pardon?" he asked, lighting up a cigarette.

"Take the damn _hat_ off," I growled, reversing, "I'm not being seen with you if you wear that _damn hat_."

He touched the wide, gray brim of it. "What, this?" he asked, knowing _too_ well that I hated that hat.

"Yes, _that_," I said, driving down the street. We called it his "pimp hat-" it was a gray, broad-brimmed hat with a Native American-style rope-thing separating the brim from the rest of the hat. The worst part was the _feather_; there was this _feather_ on one side, like Peter-fucking-_Pan_, slanted upwards, in different shades of brown, like a quail feather. "Take it. _The fuck_. Off."

"Are you really _that_ bothered by it?" he asked. I glared daggers at him, getting my point across. He shrugged. "Then I see no reason to take it off."

"If you _don't_ take that damn hat off I'll _rip _it off!" I barked, reaching over for it. He smacked my hand away and held onto it. I lowered my voice, almost hitting a Sedan in front of me. "I swear, if you even _think_ I'm going to be seen with you wearing that fucking pimp hat you've got another thing coming."

"And that other thing would be?" he asked, calmly, totally disregarding the idea of taking it off.

I sighed. "Look. I'm serious. Take it off. I deal with you looking weird all the _rest_ of the time, but I'm not gonna tolerate it now. Jesus, you look like some fucking stage actor!"

"You should relax," he said nonchalantly. He shook the cigarette ashes out the window. "Besides, we're going to a party, so it's excusable-"

"Yeah, a party we're not even on _time_ for," I answered, stepping on the gas a little more.

"We're arriving fashionably late," he answered.

"We're fucking _half an hour_ late! You call that _fashionable_?" I yelled.

"_Calm down_," he said sternly. I shut and rolled my eyes. Dickface. "You like to badger me, don't you?" he asked, with a smirk.

"Well, you like to be an _idiot_," I mumbled.

He blew a puff of smoke out of his mouth and sighed. "Look. Don't fret over it. Just go with it. The party's going to go on into the wee hours of the night, so it's fine that we arrived late. It's probably better for us. Now we'll be reputable for arriving fashionably, and no one will care how we're dressed. Don't be so high-strung. Just relax and have a good time. Alright?"

"Fine," I muttered. "This is the street, right?"

He looked out the window. "I believe Kyoukotsu said the house was yellow. I suggest you just look for a house with an odd number of cars parked in front of it. Or a house that has the lights on. What time is it?"

"Nine-forty," I said, my internal clock ticking in my brain.

He nodded and leaned back in his seat, blowing more smoke out. "Hmmm."

I looked through the house until I found a dingy, dark yellow one with a few lights on, with about five cars parked around it. It was pretty small, a ranch house from the distance I was at. It stood in one of those pristine, white neighborhoods- full of middle-class houses. On its right was a small brick two-story with neat hedges and a neat lawn. On its left was a homely looking white house with dark blue shutters and a neat gray pathway-

I peered closer at it. That couldn't be- no. Was it? Shit. It was _Jakotsu's_ house. Shit. Wait. It was sheer coincidence. Nothing scary. I had to calm down…calm down…

I pretended as if I didn't recognize the neighborhood and parked across the street. I got out of the car. I could hear soft shouting and vague music coming from the yellow house. I locked the car and spun the key ring around my finger, breathing meditatively.

Miroku ran up next to me. "Seems like this is the place," he said. "I have a good feeling about this."

I tried to hide my nervousness- shit, this was going to _suck_, wasn't it? "Just shut up and walk," I said as we approached the house.

Miroku rang the doorbell and put his hands behind his back. I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall.

An average-height guy with longish, braided hair and reddish-brown eyes opened the door. "Guests!" he screamed behind them, and everyone in the background shouted a sort of "huffah!" in the background. I looked at Miroku and shook my head, wanting to get out of here as fast as I could. I _knew_ this would suck. I _knew_ it. Miroku nodded, with a madman's grin, _ecstatic_ that he was going to a party tonight. We shook and nodded our heads simultaneously as some guy in the background shouted, "where's the pizza?" and the whole crew laughed again. The red-eyed guy turned back to us. "Alright, c'mon in."

I walked in cautiously and stepped on a brown, prickly welcome mat. The guy closed the door and walked away. I hung my jacket up on the coat hanger by the doorway, next to some people's shoes. I stepped in further to investigate. To my right was a small staircase with a burgundy runner along it. There was a hallway in front of us that stretched into two rooms; to the left was what looked like a kitchen or a gaming room. The right room was maybe a sitting room (who the _Hell_ has a _sitting_ room?). There were people in that room. I couldn't make them out clearly, even though the room was pretty close. They were all sitting around one figure, an androgynous figure who was standing slanted with arms outstretched gracefully, sort of spinning around. The figure spun facing me- instinctively I knew who it was. He lowered his sunglasses a little so that I could see the tops of his eyes and looked at me for a bit, mouth parted, black hair down around his face. We stared at each other for a while, he in some sort of acknowledgement and me in some sort of awe or puzzlement. Someone stood up, asking him who was there.

I shook my head and turned back to Miroku. "Where're we supposed to-" I paused. He'd gone somewhere. I heard Jakotsu laugh. I leaned against the banister of the staircase and wondered what to do. Idiot. Why the Hell was I looking at him? It's not like I wanted to be there, or he _needed_ me there, anyway. Who had he reminded me of?

A girl in a pink dress and purple tinted glasses walked down the stairs. She turned to me. "You should check out the stars upstairs," she said. "They're _ethereal_."

I watched her walk off and put my head in my hands. Why was I so stupid? This party was already _racking_ my mind, and I had only been there for what? Five minutes? _Three_? Damnit. Whatever. I wiped my face with my hands and let out a frustrated breath, and went to mingle.

Some catchy rock song blared over everything as I came into the kitchen. I pressed a hand over my right ear and went to find someone I knew. Like _that_ would work- I only knew three people here of the maybe thirty that were at the party, one of which I hated and the other who was being the goddamn social butterfly he was _born_ to be.

Someone said, "Don't like the music?"

"_I can see through mountains, watch me disappear/ something something/ Swallowing the colors I something something/ Am I just a crazy guy/ Something something something flying high again _(or was it _trying hard to care_?)_!"_

I didn't answer. "Black Sabbath!" they shouted. "_Crazy Train_! You dig!"

"YEAH!" I spat, curtly enough so as to say, "leave me the fuck alone!" They guy shrugged and walked away to another group of party people. Shit. _Shit_. I needed to find _someone_…shit…

I walked around for a little bit, enough for a song to pass. I entered a dining room, where Miroku was talking to a bunch of party-goers. He turned around and lit up. He waved me over. I rolled my eyes and walked over, where I could see three people. "Inuyasha! I thought I'd lost you! Well, thank God you haven't been raped. Meet Hiten, Wes, and our dear host tonight."

Hiten, the guy who opened the door, nodded toward me. Looking at him closer, he was taller than I thought, with longer hair than I thought, tied back into a braid. Wes- the guy who asked me if I dig Black Sabbath's _Crazy Train_- waved. And our host was, in just a _twist_ of my good _fucking_ luck, Bankotsu.

He shook my hand, looking cocky as ever. "So we finally meet again, huh?"

"Peachy," I grumbled.

Miroku smirked. "Have you two met before?"

"Yeah," I muttered, holding up two fingers, "twice."

"Well! Isn't that a coincidence? It really is a small world," Miroku said brightly. A little _too_ small. Suddenly I was developing a serious case of claustrophobia.

The music faded into a slow, prom-date sort of dancing song. Introductions over and done, they started to talk. "Anyway, what I was saying is that the music's fantastic," Miroku said, continuing whatever conversation they were having earlier.

"Yeah. My friend Suikotsu and I collaborated on it," Bankotsu said matter-of-factly.

"Todd Rundgren," Wes said, totally convinced I knew _nothing_ about music. "_It Wouldn't Have Made Any Difference_."

"Yeah," I grunted.

We grabbed beers off a tray someone was passing around and talked until another song came on. "Anyway, we've gotta mingle," Bankotsu said, reminded of the time.

"Yeah! Gotta go meet and greet," Hiten said, in his frat boy way, smiling like all Hell and Heaven's collide.

"Alright, then. We'll be around," Miroku said. "Nice to meet you all." He shook their hands and they left. He turned to me. "So?"

"'So' what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you enjoying yourself so far?" he replied. I just stared at him. He laughed. "Oh, come now- it can't be _that_ bad for you, can it?"

All the sudden a figure tore through the crowd. Wes stood in front of us, winded. "Oh, I forgot," he said. He pointed up again. "_Mr. Farmer_. The Seeds. Bye!" He ran back.

Miroku stared for a bit and burst out laughing. "Oh, you don't know the _half_ of it," I grunted, moving away from Wes' direction. "You don't know the _half_ of it."

>>>>>>>

Finally, some somewhat contemporary music that I knew- Pearl Jam.

I wasn't enjoying myself any more than I was in the beginning. I was slightly buzzed, now on my third cup. What can I say. When you hang out with Miroku, you learn how to take your alcohol. I downed the rest of it and looked for a garbage can to throw it out in. I wasn't planning on getting wasted tonight- I didn't need a _car crash_ on top of all this party shit.

I threw it out and started to go back to my place back by the window in back of the dining table. By standing by the window, arms crossed and looking out and drinking my beer, I was officially telling everyone at this damned party that no, I _wasn't_ interested in talking, and, no, I _wasn't_ going to be getting high tonight. Maybe my negativity just made it _seem_ like the party sucked…

"So you're tired of this shit, too?"

I looked beside me. It was Jakotsu's bald friend, somethin'-kotsu. Ben-kotsu? Jen-kotsu? "Yeah," I grunted.

"Yeah," he answered. "I'm Renkotsu." Ren- that was it. "I'm guessing you're Jakotsu's friend? Inuyasha?"

"Uhm, yeah, I guess," I said. I wasn't so sure of this '_friend_' business…but I _was_ sure Jakotsu'd been talking about me. Stupid fucking...

"Yeah," he said. "So, how'd you meet him? Something weird, as always?"

"Therapist," I answered. He gave me a skeptical look. "I needed to pick up my girlfriend."

He looked relieved. "Oh. Good. The last thing he needs is another psychopathic friend. I mean, more than he has now, anyway."

"There's more?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"Billions more," he said. "Most of them past boyfriends."

My interest sparked- it's just something I judge people by. How can you _not_ judge people by their past? It's one of those things that's impossible _not_ to think about. "Really?" I asked, faking casualness so as not to sound too concerned.

He nodded. "Really. He's out of control- with relationships and things like that." He rolled his eyes. "Well, what do you expect. It _is_ Jakotsu we're talking about."

"Yea," I answered. I remembered the Renkotsu I saw at the therapist and thought that they didn't look alike at all. The therapist-Renkotsu, I remember, was a criminal with shifty eyes who was _not_ to be trusted. This Renkotsu seemed like a source to me, a reference book that only listed facts. Just a regular person.

"Don't they call him something at your school?" he asked.

What? What the Hell did _that_ mean? "I don't know," I said, thinking of how unfortunate it was for the people at my school that they _knew_ him.

"Yeah, I remember they called him something," he said. "Like, 'The Saint Midoriko Slut.' But that just further states his flippancy with relationships. The way _I_ see it, he's just craving the attention that his parents never give him."

Well, _that_ seemed plausible. "Yeah. But, how has he been in so many relationships?" I asked, interrogating like a detective. "I mean, he's only, what, fifteen?"

"Well, it started with the first one," he said. "I don't remember his name, but all I remember was that he was much older than him. He was, maybe, late twenties, early thirties. That's the first one. There were a whole bunch after that, including his _therapist_. I'm not even sure why he tells Suikotsu and I this stuff, but he does, but I think he needs to vent once in a while. But the sure sign that he's got a new boyfriend is that he grows apart from you for a while."

I thought on that. Come to think of it, he hadn't been calling me all that often lately. "Huh," I grunted.

"He _does_ have a new one. The worst part is that it's got Bankotsu jealous. The thing is, Bankotsu has issues with confidence, and he tries to fulfill himself in Jakotsu, because he constantly dotes on him. When Jakotsu gets a new boyfriend he becomes totally wrapped in that person, and that makes Bankotsu feel inadequate."

"Yeah I guess," I said, overwhelmed by the Freudian-Perls psychology thing. Jesus, could you act like any _more_ of a shrink?

Someone tapped on my shoulder. I whipped around- Miroku. _Finally_. "We've been invited to another area."

"Area?" I asked with an eyebrow raised.

"A sort of VIP-thing, if you will. Only the host's closest friends go there," he said. He looked at Renkotsu. "Nice to meet you!"

"Yeah, ditto," I said, as Miroku dragged me away and I was _filled_ with this new, improved information on the newest phase in my life.

>>>>>>>

The VIP place was spotless and clean, unlike the rest of the house. The couches were a beige and the carpet was green, with '70s wood paneling on the walls. There was a case of porcelain objects and a TV with family pictures above it. I was guessing this was the family room. Two guys with acoustic guitars sat on one couch, playing something soft below the music, which was less audible in this room.

Miroku left again to go speak with some other new acquaintances he had. I stood near the doorway, not knowing what to do- there was much less privacy in this area. I could basically see everything in front of me.

Wes came up to me. "Hey! How've you been? Enjoying yourself?"

"Sure," I muttered, wishing he would get the _Hell_ away from me. I really didn't need him right now… "I'm just peachy."

"What's that?" he asked.

"I'm _fine_," I said loudly. I wondered how many people heard me.

He laughed. "Cool. You were mumbling, so-"

"Do you know what song this is?" I interrupted, loud and irritated, so he would get the message.

He looked at me blankly. "Oh, God. It sounds so familiar. It's…uhmm…oh, god, I know this!" he said, snapping his fingers. "It's…uhmmm…jeez…it's-"

"It's the Beach Boys," said someone next to us. I turned around. Jakotsu, smiling his smile. "_Feel Flows_."

"Oh, yeah! Beach Boys! It sounded so familiar!" Wes said. "God, I haven't seen you all night! What's up?"

I could see the cynical eye-roll under the sunglasses. He laughed. "It's been okay. Like, as in, there's not much. But it's fun and I like everyone here." He looked at me. I looked at him, thinking about what Renkotsu'd said...it made me uncomfortable, to see him now through a new eye. And he noticed. And he frowned. "Uhmm."

"Yeah. So, you're having a good time? This party is great!"

"Yeah," Jakotsu said, smiling, still looking at me. He turned to Wes. "Could you get me a beer?"

"Oh, sure," Wes said, marching off.

We stayed silent. "Hey," he said, obviously noticing my newfound, cautious attitude toward him. Like he just always noticed fucking _everything_.

"Hi," I returned.

"Oh!" Miroku said, coming up behind us. "You've made a new friend! That's good for you. I've been trying to get him to socialize all night, but our Inuyasha is a stubborn gentleman. It's good you've found the soul to humour him."

Jakotsu stuck his hand out for me to shake it. I took it cautiously- first our truth conversation, then Renkotsu's insight, and now this. His hand, pale and smaller than mine. "Pleasure," he said, smiling.

Miroku looked confused. "Have you met?"

I paused. "Miroku," I said, "this is Jakotsu."

Miroku looked at him in surprise. "Oh! _That_ Jakotsu! It's a pleasure to finally meet you!"

"Yeah, you too," he answered.

Wes returned with Jakotsu's beer. Jakotsu took it and downed the glass, clutching the empty cup unsteadily. He turned to the rest of the people in the room. "Is anyone ready to _rumble_ in this room!" he said flamboyantly. The whole room was enamored with him- they huffahed in joy. "Guitar!" he said, signaling to the guitarists. They strummed something Spanish-sounding. He spun around and wiped out on the other couch. Everyone cheered. "Let's party!" he said. Everyone laughed. The better-looking of the guitarists smiled. Jakotsu looked at me, smiling and laughing, and fell backwards again like a drunk klutz. Only then I figured out that he was tipsy. All that, and now this. One handshake.

Five people stood up immediately, among them Bankotsu, the better-looking guitarist, and a tall, older looking guy with longish brown hair to help him up.

Miroku sensed something wrong in me. He looked at me and said quietly, "So that's Jakotsu."

"Yeah," I answered. "That's Jakotsu."

>>>>>>>

By then we'd met up with Kyoukotsu, who, no surprise, was friends with Jakotsu. There were seven of them who stuck together, we guessed, all -kotsus. Two of them weren't here today, Kyoukotsu said, but he and the others were.

Lately I didn't know what to make of Jakotsu. He was so confusing all the fucking time, slipping away from anyone who really tried to get to know him. Did I? Had I? I didn't know. Maybe he was odd around me now because of our little talk a few days ago. Or maybe it was like Renkotsu said, maybe it was just his new boyfriend, this John guy (the guitarist). Lately I was confused at myself. I felt like I was asleep for no fucking reason, and like I wanted to wake up but I was just too damn tired. My mind was twisted and overwhelmed. All this new information. Miroku's hat. His hand. Kagome's hair. Sesshoumaru's breakfast. His hand again. How in the Seven Hells was this connected? Christ. I needed _something_. I needed a _link_. There was nothing in my mind to organize all this, no storage bins, no neat little file cabinets. Just papers and documents jumbled all over. Was I even making _sense_?

Halfway through Jakotsu left with his guitarist happier than a retarded dog on smack. He came back with red eyes and tear stains running down his cheeks and his guitarist's arm constantly around his shoulders. One minute he's so fucking happy, then he's crying like a baby. There was no sense in it. Nothing. There was no connection between anything. He was so drunk by then he needed someone to constantly hold him _up_.

He'd look over once in a while, sometimes seeming like he wanted to say something and sometimes just looking at me, puzzled as to my new attitude. Well, I was puzzled too. I was confused at every goddamn thing. I needed someone to wake me up. He needed someone to put him to sleep.

>>>>>>>

I fell face-down on my bed at around 1:16, exhausted. A buzz was ringing in my ear from the loudness of the music and my four cups of beer. I can't believe I drove that way- buzzed and beat. Well, it wasn't like Miroku could've driven in his condition. He'd hit the alcohol, and his cigarettes, _and_ the bong all in one night. Thank God no one told him about he acid. He'd be all over that like ink on a newspaper, and I would've dumped him out of my car quicker than lightning.

I grunted. I didn't need to think right now. I just needed to sleep. Sleep...like some kind of psycho stupid teenager who comes home late all the time, never feeling shittier in my life, never sleepier...sleeping all the fucking same.

>>>>>>>

_A/N_: That was the end of part one. I'm labeling part one as "People's Parties" and part two will be…I'll think about that. Anyway, toodles. I have to start writing the next chapter…shit. I guess there'll be fifteen more chapters after this. It's starting to get dreary, no? But I guess if you start the day laughing you end it crying. Ciao.


	17. Part Two: The Ocean, Chapter Sixteen

_A/N_: Yeah. So, here it is. You know what? I forgot my train of thought again. Anyway, let's get to review responses, shall we?

**_Review Responses_**

_IPT (Irken Pop Tart, perhaps?)_: Renkotsu's a fag. He does seem like the Freudian kind, though, huh? It's only what I think of it. It's just that as it twists to seriousness it gets bad, too many arguments and shouting and confusion. Maybe I should end it comedically. I don't know. Sigh. Anyway, thanks for the review, and I hope you like this chapter. It's sort of odd. Odd to write, I mean. Oh, and if this isn't Irken Pop Tart, I'm sorry. Also sorry if I wrote your name wrong.

_Atrephius_: Haha. Oh, that's awful- I'm not going to get _that_ depressed. Just a _wee_ bit. But it'll basically be the same, I hope. Anyway, sex in fanfictions is awfully arealistic, hah. It annoys me, so much- sex isn't like that at all. "Throbbing need" and "core of her passion." Sex is always very quick, and I really don't like the kinky oral stuff. It annoys me, and it seems slutty. But everyone loves it. Oh, ah well. I'm really working on more stories, I swear, but it's just too much for me to be able to put everything in conext- well, you understand, right? Anyway, I guess I need a beta. That sounds jazzy; we could be the Dr. Gonzo/Raoul Duke dynamic,a la_Fear andLoathing In Las Vegas_. Anyway, au revoir! Oh, and- you said you go to a school in New York; which one? I'm not too keen on colleges, but if my awful parents force me to go, oh well. I won't go, anyway. Haha. Pardon me. Ciao.

_Twisted Badger_: Oh, I'm glad you like it. Haha. It's actually getting sort of hard to write this. That was another horrible lie. It's, in actuality, too easy to write this, but I hate things when I write them out of my moods, you know? If there's no emotion, no feeling, no understanding to back the story, the Hell with it. Just, the Hell with it.

_Dragon Pearl1_: You know, I feel like I felt at the beginning of writing the story- that there's not many reviewers, and it's nice you still follow it to some degree. I thought everyone said that, the"assume" thing,but it might just be a New York-suburb thing. Hmmm...anyway, that's good for Canada! Now they're speaking. Do you live in Canada? And, there's a new Oliver Twist movie coming out? I might go see it, but I'm not too keen on the story; people are stupid, uptight, and boring because everyone is so concentrated on having a goddamned personality and being "individual" that everyone seems the same to me. Oh well. Anyway, I guess I share the same point of view with Jakotsu (in this story, at least); that sex has absolutely nothing to do with love. When I really think about it, I would rather have sex with someone I don't know, so that it wouldn't be weird later. And then I'd get to know them. Anyway, thank you for the review- thank you, merci, gracias, _muchas_ gracias, oh, this is great.

**>>>>>>>**

**Part Two: The Ocean**

_Chapter Sixteen_

"Wake up."

Light.

"Wake up, Little Brother."

_Blaring_ light.

"I am not as patient as you believe me to be, Inuyasha. Get up."

_Blazing_, _artificial_ light. Holy Shit.

I pulled the sheets tighter over my head and clutched them safely. "Turn off. The fucking. _Light_."

"You have a call," he answered. Goddammit.

"Go. The. Fuck. Away," I moaned, really _not_ in the mood for this right now. Not right now. Jesus creeping _shit_, not now. I have a blaring, angry headache. I need sleep. I _want_ sleep. Just two more hours of sleep.

I could tell he'd lost his patience with me. "I have no time for your inanities," he said, and threw a small object right on my leg before sweeping off like his usually filled-with-grace self.

"Come back here you bastard!" I yelled, throwing the sheets off. I sighed. Damn. I shouldn't even be up right now…I grabbed the phone and muttered a tired, "Hell-_oh_!"

A pause. "Hey."

"Hi," I grumbled.

"Look, I have the feeling there's something wrong. So, let's just skip the awkwardness, and let's start over," he answered. "Like, from the beginning. So." He cleared his throat. "_Hi_. I'm Jakotsu."

I paused. A handshake. Simple as that. Did I really want to meet him all over again?

He took a breath to start saying something, but I beat him to the chase. "I'm Yasha." I shook my head- shit. I could almost _see_ him smiling that idiot smile that came whenever he thought something I did was sweet or cute. "Well, _Inu_yasha. Miyazaki. Alright? So don't get any ideas, ya got it?"

>>>>>>>

"Don't touch that, I said!" I hissed, smacking his hand away from a little play-dough statue of a rabbit or some kind of deformed rainbow animal I'd made in kindergarten, now hard and crusty. "Jeez, what do you not understand about 'don't touch?' I'll be right back soon, so don't do anything stupid. Alright?" I walked back into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes. I wasn't used to having guests over, not _this_ early in the morning. Somehow he'd convinced me to let him over, like he _always_ convinced me to do shit I didn't want to do. And he hadn't even_ said_ anything. It'd happened like this: "Uhm…you wanna come over or something?" Just like that. He hadn't even _done_ anything and _still_ he was talking me into dumb shit. I considered the fact that maybe, just _maybe_, he had ESP or had put subliminal messages on that CD of his.Maybe I was just too tired to fight it. "You hungry?" I called, uncomfortably and awkwardly, from the kitchen.

He shook his head. "No. Thanks. I already ate. I had-"

"I'm not interested in what you're digesting, thanks," I answered, pouring some milk over my cereal. I brought it back to the living room, where he was sitting on the couch, in his uncomfortable looking Catholic-schoolgirl way, legs crossed and hands on his lap. "What time is it?" I asked. For some reason having him in my house made me uncomfortable. I never really _let_ people in my house, save Miroku, who knew my family well enough for me to be comfortable.

"Uhmm," he answered. He peered at the clock above the other sofa. "Ten-fifteen."

"Alright," I answered. "You gotta go soon. My mom's coming home from Church in half an hour."

"Awww," he answered. "Does your mom mind guests?" He put that vague, oh-so-mysterious expression on, tilting his head down and smiling. "Or is she a horrible, nasty bitch? Like my mother?"

"Can it," I grunted, stuffing more cereal in my mouth. "Besides, your mom isn't _that_ bad."

He paused. "I guess not. But she's _so_ stupid. You can't _believe_ how retarded she is. I could just snap my fingers and have her jump off a _bridge_." He laughed. "Is that mean?"

I rolled my eyes. "_No_. I mean, it's just _so_ nice to call your own _mother_ stupid. Why would you even _think_ that's mean. Moron." He laughed again. I ate more of my cereal, disgruntled and only waking up now.

I swallowed the cluster of bran flakes I had in my mouth and went for another spoonful. "So, what? Did you walk here?"

"Yah," he answered.

"You don't have a jacket," I pointed out.

"I don't need one," he returned.

The Emperor of Cool came in from the staircase. Obviously he'd gone back to sleep- he'd wake up and do something and then go back to sleep, most of the time for four or five hours. Lazy bum.

But it was what he was _wearing_ that made me pissed at him. "Oi, Sesshoumaru, put some damn _clothes_ on!" I yelled as he sauntered by.

He walked by in his stately boxers and his stately manner and into the kitchen which would probably start to be stately after he even thought _of_ going in, ignoring me ever so gracefully. I sighed exasperatedly. Id-i-ot.

Jakotsu was smiling ever-so-slightly, waking up an impulse in me to strangle him. "Your brother's kinda cute," he said, "in a businessman way. As in, he looks really arrogant. Sorta like he has no time for you."

"Feh," I grumbled.

"But I'm not sure he's my type," he said, stretching out his arms. "Looks like too many people like him."

I grunted again. "Save it. He has a girlfriend already."

"I thought so," he answered. He sighed and smiled, lying down. "Men are like parking spaces, I guess. All the good ones are taken and the only ones available are handicapped." He laughed.

I stayed silent.

Sesshoumaru returned from the kitchen with a glass of milk and a banana, not noticing Jakotsu sitting on the couch opposite him. Jakotsu stifled laughs and I rolled my eyes, both of us wondering when he'd notice Jakotsu.

He didn't even look our way until the Joy Boy Wonder opened his mouth. "_Hiii_," he said with a wave.

Sesshoumaru turned in his direction and squinted at him, too tired to make him out otherwise. I wished I had a camera- it was a rare occasion that Sesshoumaru was confused. A Kodak fucking moment. "Who are you?" he asked, voice suspicious and sleepy.

"I'm Jakotsu," he replied.

"Why are you in my house?" Sesshoumaru asked, interrogating like a policeman or a mother. And still in his boxers.

"I'm Yasha's friend," he answered, obviously enjoying all this.

Sesshoumaru paused and glared death at me. "Huh." He continued eating his banana, a sure sign that, yes, he _would_ kill me later.

"Sesshou," I heard someone call down the stairs. Great. What _was_ my house, a fucking _circus_? Rin came into sight, with her thick black hair messed up, wearing one of Sesshoumaru's shirts loosely, face clean and sleepy. Fifteen years old. That fucking jerk. "'Lo, Inu," she said, yawning and rubbing her eye.

"Hi," I said with a limp wave, my face flushing red. The Miyazaki Family Circus, Bayside, New York, Open All Hours. I looked at Sesshoumaru, with the "ooh-I'm-soooo-telling-on-you" look he was giving me at the very moment. Sibling rivlary just reached a _whole_ new fucking level.

She sat down on Sesshoumaru's lap with her thin arms around his neck. She looked over at Jakotsu and blinked. "Who're you?"

Jakotsu looked at me. "He's Jakotsu," I answered. "A uhm friend."

"Oh," she said. "Hello."

"Yeah," Jakotsu mumbled. Rin's presence is an annoyance to a lot of people, just 'cause she's so damn pretty. Either that, or, in Jakotsu's case, they couldn't stand women. Either/or.

We all sat in awkward silence for a while, Jakotsu sitting up, Rin cradled up on Sesshoumaru, Sesshoumaru glaring _daggers_ and _guns_ at me, and me eating my cereal, sitting at the unnerving center of all of this.

Rin made a low, muffled sound, her head buried in the Ice King's neck. I made a clicking sound with my tongue, unsure of what to do now. Ice King finished his breakfast and pushed Rin off him gently, getting up to clean the mess, and went up the stairs. Rin tailed after him in all her glorified prettiness.

Jakotsu just looked at me weirdly. I looked back and rolled my eyes. "How come your brother lives with you, anyway? Isn't he twenty?"

"Twenty-_one_," I answered. Fifteen years old- what a jerk. I'd kill him. I'd _ruin_ that motherfucker. Oh well. He could do whatever he _wanted_. It was none of my business. At least now he couldn't penalize me for having Jakotsu over. "'Sides, what's it matter to _you_ why he lives here?"

"Well, he's twenty," he answered. "It's just funny that he lives there. As soon as I'm seventeen I'm outta here. I don't know why anyone would want to put up with their parents for that long."

I sighed. I had to explain this _every time_. "He broke up with his old girlfriend two months ago. A month after they broke up she got drunk and stuff and found out about Rin-"

"Who?"

"Rin. That other girl. Anyway she went ballistic on his _oh-so-high end_ apartment in the city and ruined it. They're still doing the renovations on it. So he's stayin' here for the time being, instead of getting off his lazy ass and finding _himself_ an apartment and stop making my life more horrible than it needs to be," I answered.

"Oh. What's he work as?" he asked again.

"Real estate. He's a real fuckin' _whiz_ at it," I answered, rolling my eyes. "Basically he buys buildings and sells them. He works with a partner. Some dude named Naraku or some bullshit like that, and his little annoying gofer Jaken."

He paused. "You really don't like him…I can't see why. He's _hawt_."

I rolled my eyes again. Around Jakotsu, that was the only thing you _could_ do. "Of course. What was I _thinking_. It's totally okay for me to like my brother _because he's hot_. You're a fucking genius."

He paused again. "Is he mean to you?"

I didn't answer at first, taking another bite of my cereal and chewing it loud so I could hear the crunch in my ear, and swallowed. I leaned back on the couch and looked at the ceiling. "Feh. What's it matter, anyhow? He's always gonna be the same, and there's no use tryin' to change 'im. He's always gonna be the same stupid cold bastard."

"Is that why you don't like him?" he asked, running a hand through my hair and tugging a little at the end.

I swatted his hand away and drank the milk from the bowl, now stained with crumbs from the bran flakes and sprinkled with gooey piles of sugar. Bran flakes just weren't the same without sugar. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, saying from behind it, "Didn't I just _say_ why I didn't like him?"

"I dunno. I can't relate to you. You like people who are good and nice and stuff. I like people for their…characters? Is that the word? Anyways I think any loser can pull off nice, but only few people can really be individual." He rolled on his back and faltered as he lost balance. "But. Yeah."

I put the bowl away. "Besides, what's got _you_ so interested in my family life all the sudden?" I called from the kitchen, having decided to wash my bowl and stop making my Mom do all the work.

"I don't have any siblings, remember, Yashie?" he called back. "But I have a Nana. Gawd, I hate her. She's such a man. Yesterday, she was yelling at me for-"

"What's with your family, anyhow?" I interrupted, not wanting to hear anymore sick stories about noises and Catholic boys and…I wiped my hands on a dishrag and went back into the living room.

"Whaddyou mean, _Yasha_?" he asked, looking up.

"I mean, like, your family speaks fifty million languages, and you can talk all of them," I pointed out, wiping some dust off the glass top coffee table. "That's just one of the things."

"It's not fifty million," he said. "It's four. I think. It's English, Japanese, French, and Catalan-"

"And what the Hell is Catalan?" I asked.

"It's a French-Spanish dialect spoken in the Pyrenees Mountains," he answered. "That's were my Nana's from. 'Cause the Pyrenees is in between Spain and France I think. What nationality are _you_?"

"The Hell's _that_ mean?" I asked defensively.

He laughed. "You're just a little _odd_ looking, y'know?" I gave him the death stare that was usually directed at Miroku. "Oh, don't look at me like that. It's just that you have weird features and stuffers. Like, you have really, _reaaaaaly_ white-blonde hair. And weird color eyes. And you're not the type who would wear contacts or dye your hair. I'm kind of glad you don't, because it's gay when men do stuff like that-" I would like to insert here a note on how often he called things gay or lesbian or homo, despite being the biggest example of gay, lesbian, _and_ homo rolled into one big fucking tortilla- "I just wanna know where you're from, 'cause you look weird."

_I _looked weird? I was about to ask him if _he'd_ ever looked in a mirror, but before I could I caught my reflection in the TV. Did I really look _that_ weird? Hell. I knew it. Kids at school knew it. The fucking _Prince of Wales_ knew it. Longish, white-blonde hair, some kind of brown-hazel-weird-tan-I-don't-know-what eye color. Sorta thick eyebrows and a tendency to scowl. And I only became fully conscious of this _now_?

I sighed, still frowning. "My Dad is some kinda Austrian with some Japanese. My mom's all Japanese from what I know." I scowled deeper. "There. Are you happy?"

He stared at me hard for a while. "Actually, yeah, I can see that. The races in you, and stuff." He ran a hand along my face.

"Knock it off," I said, batting his hand like it was a bad fly.

"You're very insecure," he answered. "About the way you look."

"I am not!" I barked, and threw myself on a couch.

He got up from his couch and plopped himself next to me. "What's your room look like?"

"You pervert," I answered. "Why do you want to know? Don't you _have_ a boyfriend?"

His face fell a bit. "Someone told you about that?"

"Yeah," I said. I remembered Renkotsu, thinking that, after he filled me in, I wouldn't want to get him in trouble. "It doesn't matter who. I didn't know 'em. Besides, I saw you and him all over each other at the party."

"Oh," he answered. "Well, what's your room got to do with him?"

"I was just making a joke," I said.

"A joke?"

"About rooms. Do you get it?"

"No. I don't."

"Jesus, forget it," I said in that annoyed, "whatever" tone people get whenever they don't want to talk about something.

"What's it mean?" he urged.

"My God, can't you just drop it?" I asked again, feeling my stomach clench, my neck getting hot.

He went into a quieter, gentler tone. "You know, whatever whoever said to you, I'm not some stupid slut idiot-"

"You've sure made a reputation on being one," I snapped, too annoyed and nervous to keep my big trap shut.

He gave me this death-stare for a minute, running his tongue across his teeth to keep from strangling me. A stare your girlfriend gives you when you're being a dick in front of her parents. A stare a proud woman gives you when she's been insulted. The stare Kagome gave me when I told her what she really was months ago. This harrowing, offended, vulnerable stare. "Maybe I should go," he said, picking up his bag and walking out of the living room.

"Oh, shit," I said, standing up. I shook my head. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. God, it shouldn't even have been a _debate_. I shouldn't have fucking said that. He should be alone. He shouldn't even have come over. I sat myself down again. Whatever. He needed to cool off.

I heard the door open, and, I, sure he was gone, lay supine and stared at the ceiling. All the sudden, from the hallway, I heard a crash of cans and paper bags, paper, a conversation:

"Gosh! Could you _be_ any clumsier?"

A pause.

Oh shit.

"And who are you, again?"

"Who are _you_?"

"My name is Izayoi," my mother answered. "And this is my house. Are you one of my sons' friends?"

I could hear hesitation. "Uhm. I uh guess. I mean yeah."

"Hmmm." The pauses were killing me slowly. "Inuyasha! Sesshoumaru!"

I froze. Shit. The _one _thing I'd been avoiding, my prime concern, dashed with just an argument. Shit. Mother Mary. No- this was worse. Too extreme for _just_ the Virgin Mother. Oh _Jesus_. Oh _God_. Holy _Trinity_. Why did I _have_ to call him a slut…

I sat, tense and frozen still, waiting for my brother to come down first amidst my mother's calling and Jakotsu's silence. Sesshoumaru walked by, having thrown on, in a hurry, some jeans and a shirt, giving me a look before proceeding into the entrance room/hall/whatever. I got up cautiously and walked slowly behind him, biting and releasing my bottom lip, my head tilted down in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sweetie," she said to me. I shrugged and continued to look at my feet. Boys," my mother continued, "is this one of your friends?" She wasn't annoyed, just had a look of concern on her face, the gentle look she put on whenever she wanted us to tell the truth.

"Certainly not one of mine," Sesshoumaru said, looking nonchalantly over at me.

"Yours, then, Inuyasha?"

I looked at my mother, who looked confused, then at Sesshoumaru, who looked pissed, and Jakotsu, who looked more uncomfortable than all of us put together, keeping his arms in a closed wraparound position and constantly shuffling his feet, trying not to look at anyone. Catholic school manners again. "Uhmm, yeah," I said, scratching the back of my neck.

"Alright," she said. "Please just tell me when you have friends over. I'd have liked to clean the house a bit so he wouldn't be bothered by the clutter. And just try to remember that your father will be home in a short while. Alright?"

"Okay," I answered, tugging at my hair. I hated anything familial. If there's one thing that ticks Inuyasha Miyazaki off, it's mixing family with friends. It's just stupid. I don't need my friends to do _everything_ with me.

We stayed silent for a moment, when Jakotsu muttered out of the side of his mouth, quietly and annoyed, "I'm going, anyway."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mom said, turning to him. "I didn't mean to scare you away, now. You can stay for dinner, if you like-"

"No, Mom, I think _he wants to_ _go_," I interjected.

"Uhmm," Jakotsu said.

"That's that, then," my mother said, and picked up her groceries and church pamphlet, proceeding to the kitchen.

I looked at Jakotsu, leery-eyed. "I'll _kill_ you," I said, and he smiled, as if nothing we'd said even had a lasting effect.

>>>>>>>

"So _this_ is your room," he said, spinning around and falling on my bed. He looked up. "It's very you."

"Don't touch _anything_," was my answer as I sat down on my computer chair.

He sighed, loudly. "Wanna lie down with me?"

"No."

"I bet you _do_," he answered, again in the provocative voice.

"You're betting on the wrong side of the roulette table," I mumbled, spinning around once.

He sighed. "Well, that's alright. It's fine with me."

>>>>>>>

We didn't really do much in the way of entertaining ourselves (I know what you're thinking, and that you're a fucking pervert). We pretty much sat in silence. I did school stuff on the computer, and he read my books and looked at my pictures and read my second grade journal.

He turned over and read another entry out loud, just fucking _enthralled_ with it. "_June Fourth_," he said, throwing his voice to me over the beginning twangs of _Goodbye Horses_, "'_I hate school because of Susy Lee. Today she was throwing paper at me so I told her to stop and the teacher yelled at me for talking. I made a face at Susy and then the teacher yelled at me again. I hate Susy Lee!'"_ He laughed. "You were cute."

"Shut up," I grumbled, and went back to typing my essay on the "Settlement Enterprise" for American Issues class.

He ignored me as _Goodbye Horses_ blared in the background:

"_He said, 'All things pass into the night'/ And I said- oh no, Sir, I must say you're wrong/ I must disagree/ oh no, Sir, I must say you're wrong/ Won't you listen to me?"_

He went on to the net one. "'_June Tenth- Today was weird. I was playing a game near our house. It's the game where you throw the ball against the side of the house and see if you can catch it. It's called handball. But that's not why it was weird._

"_I saw my brother and his friends on the porch. My brother was sitting there and they were smoking. I went over to see what they were doing because I saw smoke but I didn't know they were smoking. And then I went over and they were smoking. They told me to go away and they looked scared, but I didn't go away. So they told me to go away again but I didn't. I started playing by them. So they asked me if I'd go away if they gave me a cigarette. I knew my parents told me not to but I did anyway. It tasted chalky. It tasted smoky and gross. So I started coughing and feeling really bad and guilty. And his friends laughed and made jokes, except for a girl with black hair and red eyes. And my brother told me to go away. So I did._'"

I stayed silent.

"_Goodbye horses/ I'm flying over you/ Goodbye horses/ I'm flying over you…"_

He looked at me. "So that's why you hate him."

"Yeah," I answered, with a shrug. "I guess."

>>>>>>>

"Inuyasha! Sweetie! Time for dinner!"

I paused the music and woke up Jakotsu, who'd fallen asleep in the middle of his angry rant about technology and how it's stupid. "C'mon. It's time for dinner."

He opened his eyes slowly. "Wha?"

"Dinner. Time for it," I answered.

"Ohhhm," he said, getting up and stretching his arms over his head. "I'm not hungry," he answered, lying back down with a thud. I rolled my eyes. It really, _really_ takes a _lot _to be stupider than Jakotsu Himekawa.

"Come _on_," I said, crossing my arms. "My parents aren't putting up with you for their _health_, ya know. Get up."

"Oh, do I have to?" he asked as I pulled him up. I started to walk back, as my mother called:

"Inuyasha! Jakotsu! Dinner's ready!"

"Yeah!" I answered, walking down the stairs.

"I don't want to meet your parents, anyway," he said. I wasn't sure if he _knew _I was ignoring him, or… "They're probably just like everyone else's parents. Only, your mom is sort of pretty and I think your dad would be hot. They probably won't like me, you know? I get that a lot. Oh, Yasha, please don't make me go," he said, in a tone that almost made me feel bad for him. Then he started to laugh. We approached the dining room doorway. He yawned and said, "I'm sleepy. I need coffee-"

I made a dead stop and turned around to him, arms crossed, scowling, causing him to falter back a little. "Look," I snapped, fixing his shirt so that he didn't look like such a wreck, "You do _anything _stupid and I won't even give second _thought_ to throwing you out. Ya hear me? Make any mistake and you're dead."

He just nodded. I sighed. "Alright," I said, relieved. "Here goes. Hnh."

The dining room isn't really anything special. We just eat dinner there. It's basically between the kitchen and living room and attached to both of them by an open space. My mother came in, wiping her hands on her apron. "I'm sorry, honey, can you set the table for me? I'm a little preoccupied right now."

"Okay," I mumbled, my face turning red. Mothers. Feh. Jakotsu smiled as soon as she left. Even now, I'm pretty sure he's petrified of my mother.

"That's nice," he said as I laid down some white ceramic plates with blue flowers rimming them. "Usually I'd just tell her I was busy. Sometimes I do it, though. When I feel like it, or when I'm not busy with something else."

I got some glasses and utensils from the kitchen cabinet and put them accordingly. Jakotsu was still smiling. I raised an eyebrow. "What's got you all fucking happy?"

"Nothing," he answered. "It's just sweet you do stuff like that. Set tables and clean and everything."

"Save it," I said.

Mom called Dad from the living room, where he had been smoking his cigar and listening to old 45s, which he usually did before dinner, and I called down Sesshoumaru, who was probably admiring all his princely glory in the mirror, which he probably usually did before dinner. Hey, but that's just me.

We sat, for a while, in silence. Sesshoumaru had come down by himself; Rin had either left during the day or was being hid in some creepy nook or cranny I didn't know about. My mother had made a salad to start off with, with some kind of black olives and tangy dressing topping it.

"So, where did you two meet?" my mother asked. I grunted- why did _everyone_ want to know that? That and if I was a fucking virgin Jesus Christ. Oh well.At least I wasn't the one who had to answer, this time.

Apparently not. Jakotsu just said there, quietly eating more of his greens. Was he really _that_ uncomfortable around strangers? I cleared my throat and kicked him under the table. He looked up, somewhat confused. "Oh. Uhmm. The therapists' office."

"Well, that's nice," my mother said with a smile. I didn't know what was different about my mom compared to Jeanne. Maybe it was the voice; Jeanne had a high, feminine, prying voice, like she always wanted to know everything, like a bird. My mother still had a feminine voice, but it was deeper and more subtle. Gentle, maybe.

Whenever my mother smiled, though, Jakotsu had on this terrified, confused look, like he'd just woken up in _Mexico_. I guess my mom was just not someone he had any reason to hate, and he was puzzled by the thought of a woman actually _liking _him.

"So, what happened with Kagome?" my father asked, politely eating his tomatoes. "Not to insult your new girl. She's very pretty!" He laughed. My mother smiled and shook her head. I raised an eyebrow, not knowing what the Hell he was talking about.

Before I could stage an argument about how I was still together with Kagome and had no idea what he was talking about, my father staged another question. "So, do you two go to school with each other?"

"No. I go to St. Midoriko's," Jakotsu answered flatly.

"That's a very good school, isn't it?" my father said in his booming, proud voice, "You must be smart to stay in it."

Jakotsu shrugged. "I guess."

"Of course," my mother said warmly.

"Or he could be rich," Sesshoumaru said, "As it _is _a school in which you pay tuition, and it's not very challenging to send a check every so often."

We paused and looked at him. He looked at us, with his "go ahead defy me I am Sesshoumaru" look on- a slight frown, raised eyebrows, and his head tilted up, as if he were bigger and mightier than _all_ the commoners on the mountain. Jerk. Jakotsu sat, not really offended by his comment, but smiling as if he'd just heard the greatest news in the world.

"Asshole," I muttered, shoveling more salad into my mouth.

"That was quite creative, Inuyasha," Sesshoumaru snapped, "What will you think of next?"

"How about, 'jerk off,'" I tried, putting my fork down and scowling. Oh boy. My mother had an uneasy expression on her face, while my father was ignoring it. The big pink elephant in the middle of the room everyone knows is there but no one wants to talk about- that's my relationship with my brother.

"Another creative expression from the mind of Inuyasha," he announced to the table, "Where do your talents end, _Little Brother_?"

"Screw you!"

"Screw me or jerk off- which is it?"

"Jerk off is easier for you," I barked. "I mean, seeing as _someone_ here has a fucking _affinity_ for underage girls, at least jerking off wouldn't get you arrested."

"Boys!" my father half-yelled. "I won't have any of this at the dinner table, understand? Dinner is not a time to argue. Are we clear on that?"

Sesshoumaru stayed silent and I rolled my eyes and nodded. We stayed silent for a little while longer, until my mother got up to get the main course.

She came back and put down a huge, juicy slab of steak that I couldn't wait to get my fucking hands on. Dad sighed, his usual smile slapped on his face, and lit a cigar. He offered one to me.

"I thought I wasn't allowed," I said.

"It's time you at least try one," he answered. "Want?"

"No thanks."

He turned around to Jakotsu. "You?"

"Sure," Jakotsu said happily. I rolled my eyes. Actually, it was sort of funny, to see my father and Jakotsu sitting there, both with huge cigars in their mouths, looking like they'd won the lottery.

"You've smoked before?" my father asked, shaking the ashes onto his napkin.

"Yea. I guess," Jakotsu said. "When I feel like it. 'Cept I don't really like menthols. They're nigger cigarettes." I glared at him, ready to do him some serious bodily harm. Fucking racist. Did he think my _parents_, of all people, wanted to know that?

My mother smiled and my father laughed, animatedly clapping his hands. "There's a real observer for you," he said. "But we're not a prejudiced family, now. Everyone just enjoys a joke now and then, hmm?"

"Yeah," Jakotsu said, smiling. Oh Jesus Christ. Jakotsu and my father- the Wonder Twins. I should've seen it coming.

My brother ate his steak faster than lighting and excused himself _ever so politely_ from the table, waltzing on up and saying, "I'm done," and taking his plate to the kitchen.

So we ate without him, thank Jesus Christ and all His Saints and Apostles, me talking to my mom and Jakotsu talking to my Dad. Until my father presented another query:

"So," he said, shaking more ashes onto his napkin, "what do you think of my son?"

I looked at him, a mantra repeated itself in my head: _"Don't screw this up you idiot don't you fucking say anything stupid…"_

He smiled and blew some smoke out, forming an O with his mouth. He looked at me and then at my father. "I like him. I like the way he looks, because he's handsome in a boyish way. You can't compare Yash to anyone else. He's just Yasha. I like characters. They're better than people who are just typical. I hate typical people." He had that same sad tone he'd had when he said I was good some days ago. "I love him. Who couldn't? He's so cute."

My parents were endeared to him; I just looked at him. Was _that_ what he _really_ thought of me? How could someone take so much shit, some SAT-length description, from _me_? I finished my steak and looked at all of them, smiling; smiling faces around a rectangular table, waiting for me to respond.

>>>>>>>

"Yasha, I-"

I pushed him out the door hurriedly. "Yeah yeah. Save it."

"I just wanted to-"

I rested my hand firmly on the brass doorknob, tapping my fingers. "You just wanted _to_?"

He brushed some hair out of his face. "Thank you. For letting me come over. And I wanted to say that I like your Dad," he added with a grin that could only mean one thing.

"Tch. Yeah. The fucking Wonder Twins," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

"What?"

"Forget it."

He shifted his feet. "So. Bye." He waved.

"Yeah. Bye," I answered, closing the door, slowly, while my mind was racked with noises- the clank of dinner utensils, Rin's voice; _Goodbye Horses_ blaring on the radio in my mind, looking for a way out. I'd been doing a lot of that lately, too much depressed, confused thinking. Too much beer and too much smoke, I guess.

>>>>>>>

"Your friend was very nice," my Mom said, washing the dishes.

I let out a "feh" and put the napkins and placemats away. "Tch. Ya think?"

"Don't say that," she said over the running water. "I thought he was a nice boy. Just very shy."

Shy- Jakotsu had been described, so far, as an interesting, sincere conversationalist, and now he was _shy_? When had _this_ come up?

The living room, as I walked into it, smelled heavy and musky- the thick, sweet scent of cigar smoke. After dinner, my father would do that, sit on the couch in the living room and smoke and read history books while my TV programs blared.

My father spun around in his chair, grinning. "Your new girlfriend-"

"Look, Dad, about that-" I began.

"She was a good girl. She seemed like a real character!" He scratched his chin, blowing smoke ringlets out of his nostrils. "Very, pretty, too."

Suddenly it hit me- he thought…I made a flat face. My God- was _that_ where Sesshoumaru got it from?"He was a _guy_."

"A what?" my father asked, having honestly not heard me.

I told him it was nothing and went up to my room. My father's thing was that he didn't overlook the differences in people, he just didn't see them at all.

>>>>>>>

_A/N_: Uhmm...I forgot to list the songs from the last million chapters; so here.

1) _Every Picture Tells A Story_- Rod Stewart;

2) _Whole Lotta Love_- Led Zeppelin

3) _Teacher_- Jethro Tull

4) _Crazy Train_- Black Sabbath

5) _It Wouldn't Have Made Any Difference- _Todd Rundgren

6) _Mr. Farmer_- The Seeds

7) _Feel Flows_- The Beach Boys

8) _Goodbye Horses_- Q-Lazzarus

Goodbye Horses is that song in _Silence of the Lambs_...I think this chapter sucked. I think it sucked really fucking bad. You know? I'm reading it over and nothing about it sparks my interest in the slightest. I feel awful. What a stupid chapter. Oh well. But the center-alignment of the songs looks cool, sooo...

is that song in ...I think this chapter sucked. I think it sucked really fucking bad. You know? I'm reading it over and nothing about it sparks my interest in the slightest. I feel awful. What a stupid chapter. Oh well. But the center-alignment of the songs looks cool, sooo... 


	18. Chapter Seventeen

_A/N_: YES YES YES YES; I wrote another chapter, and I am under the impression hat writing the next one will be vair quick/easy to do. I apologize for not writing; I have had a serious lack of inspiration, and you guys, who follow my story, know how horrible I am at making bridge chapters.

_**Review Responses (Really Fucking Long This Time Around, So Skip if You Like)**_

_Irken Pop-Tart_: Haha…Truth is, I just really did not like that chapter. There was no real inspiration or desire to write it- I wrote it because it had to be done. It took it more as an obligation rather than something I wanted to write- and that just results in bad stories, right? Thankya for the review & compliment.

_Atrephius_: Haha. Well, I s'pose, in some sense, Inuyasha is dating Jakotsu, even though it's more of a…rape situation, I guess. And, Columbia! Holy Shit! I just got into TMLA, in Jamaica. Got a scholarship, too. And, you've never dealt with parents like theirs? I have to deal with them all the fucking time…I guess it's because, well, Inuyasha is respectful towards his parents- that sort of kid who's a devil behind their backs and an angel in front of them, and he doesn't like to be embarrassed in front of them. Jakotsu's parents are annoying and gaudy, and I know one or two sets of parents like 'em- it's the whole Catholic-school-thing. And, I didn't like that last chapter because I forced myself to write it.

_Sarah_: Wrote more!

_Angelfire_: Haha. I think, though, that I've, uhm, lost Inuyasha's character- like I can't properly write up the catchy catch phrases and witty, biting sarcasm anymore. Maybe because I hate sarcastic people- but his sarcasm was always more sassy than sarcastic, and sassy is better- more tolerable- more genuine.

_Unsuspecting Uke_: You know what? That's a good analogy for this story. It's rather circuitous, I think. Anyway, enjoy!

_Darkangel_: Aww, thanks…haha. The "assume" thing. Inuyasha's retarded. I'm sorry if I disappoint you in this chapter with the lack of plot and sarcasm. It's more like a bridge chapter than anything.

_Ile_: Haha. Let's just assume that Inuyasha's father is mentally retarded…I'm glad you thought it was funny. Enjoy!

_Shinigamisgirl_: Hahaha. "Very friendly" in my world is equal to "slutty." I'm not the friendliest of people myself, I guess. And, about Jakotsu's mom- that's a good point, I haven't, uhm, exactly thought of that myself!

_Love if for Fools_: Haha, people call it deep, but I just draw it from my own mind & experiences- just like Inuyasha, I kind of consider everything rape, and like Jakotsu, I can be obnoxious and rude. Anyway, about _him_, it's like me- I say I hate gays and blacks and Latinos and white people and all sortsa other people, but in truth, I just talk out of my ass. And plus, a lot of people are shit- they just love to live up to their stereotypes.

_Denisse_: I, ah, don't exactly know how it'll end, actually! It's not going to end soon, though- I have to write thirty chapters in total because thirty is a nice, even number. Enjoy!

_Blackrosa_: Hahaha. Yeah, I guess they go out- but it's not something that really stays in that peanut brain of Inuyasha's for too long, ya know? Sorry for not updating & enjoy.

_PrettyJakotsu_: Haha. Oh! I'm going to make a lot of Jak/Ban subplot sort of things, so you should enjoy that. This is just an irrelevant bridge chapter, to connect between bigger plot advancements & the like.

_Kenshigomuwaarimasuka?_: Wow…what's your username mean? Well, here it is, continued- enjoy!

_Shinimegame_: Oh! You're stealing my plot ideas. Oh, no, I'm just kidding. Haha, he is very casual, isn't he? Anyway, enjoy the next chap.

_KawaiiInu-TaiYoukai 4ever_: Haha…, oh, trust me. You don't want to deal with anyone like him, not in the slightest bit. The people he's based on are complete lunatics! Hahah. Well, enjoy this!

_Goldgirl66556_: Someone find out who this fucking girl is so I can punch her in the teeth or something.

(_YES-I'M-DONE_!)

>>>>>>>

_Chapter Seventeen_

School was becoming a hassle lately.

Now, normally, I was a straight-A student; yeah, the occasional B, the occasional 86 on an Earth science test or some other crappy, useless subject, like Problems in an American Society, or colonial American history. But, bottom line, I was usually a good student.

But, lately, my grades had been dropping. My English grades were slipping from 100s to 95s to 82s and then on to 75- my worst grade this whole year. My math grades were decreasing less dramatically, but I knew that, one of these days, they would just roll on downhill.

I thought about the cause of my slipping grades. Was it because of Miroku? No- I'd dealt with his idiocy for more than six years, and it never affected my grades. Was it because of Kag? No- I had fallings-out with her before, but those only made me work harder.

I sighed. I didn't even have to _think_ about it- I _knew_ the cause of it. It was all Jakotsu- that homo stressed me out beyond belief. I couldn't even spell my _name_ right- I had been so tired from him calling at fucking midnight to explain what a crappy and stupid or happy day he'd had, rambling on and on about his stupid ass private school experiences and Jesus, the more interesting side of him not even surfacing, that I couldn't even keep my _head_ up in classes to pay attention to the lesson. It was becoming more serious and serious by the day. I couldn't blame it all on him, though- there was always the option of not picking up the phone. There was always the word "no." There was always the choice of just fucking _killing_ myself one day, Jesus Christ Our Lord and Savior, I needed help.

It caught my teacher's attention, too. I was leaving English class, my shoulders sagging, struggling to carry my books, when I heard someone calling my name.

"Inuyasha…Inuyasha…"

I blinked. What the Hell? I turned around. Man Purse was calling me over to his desk. Great. Another fucking rape-fest to deal with.

"Mr. Miyazaki, may I speak to you for a moment?" he asked, shuffling papers on his desk. I shrugged and stood in front of his desk, my book bag slung sloppily over my shoulder.

"Yeah?" I asked, putting a hand on my desk, to support myself.

"I was grading test papers the other day," he said, selecting a piece of paper _oh-so-precisely_ from the stack, and holding it, "And I found yours, in particular, very interesting." He turned it to me. "Can you explain this?"

I looked at the paper, and realized-

Oh holy shit.

_Date: 11/27/05  
__Mr. Ushitaro, Room 1211  
__Class: 334  
__Name: Yasha_

…I looked at it. Did I _really_ write that? Did I _really_ drop the first fucking _three_ letters of my _name_? Was that _my_ fucking _handwriting_, even? What fucking _possessed_ me to do that?

Jakotsu.

He took the paper and put it into the stack. "Now, under normal circumstances, I would have paid it no mind- perhaps you're called that at home and got confused, for a moment," he continued, looking urgently pissed, "But lately, several teachers and I have noticed a slow decline in your normally outstanding grades. We have all noticed that you can hardly stay awake in classes."

I shifted uncomfortably. "Oh, uhmm…I'm uhm, just sort of tired. I'll try to get more…uh, sleep."

"See to it that you do," he snapped, coldly. "Now, off to your next class. Education waits for no one!"

Yeah. Easy for _you_ to say.

>>>>>>>

After _that_ incident of complete and total cautionary rape, the day went normally- Rin and Miroku joked around about me at lunch, Kouga made a couple of empty threats to steal Kagome, and Kagome hit me a couple of times because I called her and Kouga a "match made in Heaven."

I was sitting home at my desk, trying desperately to concentrate on my homework, and not on the millions of other things going on around me- the annoying-ass birds who should have already migrated chirping outside, Sesshoumaru's stereo playing Latin jazz (which he listened to because he was "sophisticated-" sophisticated my ass), a car alarm going off outside…I stared down at the thick-as-Hell-froze-over AP History book, struggling and bored, _trying_ my absolute _hardest_ to be _interested_ in this fucking stuff. Like I gave a shit about the first American-born kid! She could go take a long walk off the shortest pier she could find- I had _better_ things to worry about right now.

I managed, after _strongly_ considering suicide as an option, to finish my history homework. I moved on to my Earth Science homework. The Earth Science teacher, Mrs. Chua, was a small Filipino bitch who gave the longest assignments ever- especially with me in mind. That woman had it out for me…and my assignment, on _this_ fine day, was, oh the _joy_, outlining sixty pages of complete and totally useless bullshit.

The music shut off for a minute; I was took the opportunity to actually _get some fucking work done_. But then the music turned on to something louder and even more intolerable- loud, scratchy, 70s punk. I gripped my pen tighter, reminding myself that I _just needed to find my Zen center and everything- _hear that? _everything_- _would be A-Okay._

I found my Zen center and tried to ignore the music, when a couple of annoying-ass kids from that family across the street started _screaming_ like all Holy Hell. I gritted my teeth…Jesus Christ…paired with the screams were the mechanical beeps of fucking _laser tag_ machines. One more noise and I swear I'd rip someone's _throat_ out- probably those loser kids outside who had nothing better to do than disturb the whole _fucking_ neighborhood. That or my brother. I could imagine tearing his voice box out, or tearing it open with a pen, like in that movie _Red Eye_…

My Zen center was just about found again, until the muffled, electro-sound of _Warning_ came ringing from my bedside table. I threw my book across the room, slamming my fist down on the desk. "Shit! Goddammit!" I yelled into my pillow, before getting up and picking up my phone.

"What!" I barked, almost spitting at the phone in my rage.

"Hi," Jakotsu's voice chimed from the other end- "homigawd, you know what that lesbian Bankotsu did at lunch? He-"

"Look!" I screamed, holding the phone away from my ear and putting the mouthpiece to my mouth, like it was a walkie-talkie, "I really can _not_ deal with your inane day and your inane life right now because I have got fucking _work_ to do because today a teacher stopped me and told me I looked tired and my grades are fucking slipping and if _you keep calling me_, I'm going to fucking fail in every subject I fucking HAVE!" I hung up the phone and threw it aside, plopping myself down in the pillows of my bed, face sinking into the bed sheets, wondering why it just always had to fucking happen when I didn't need it.

>>>>>>>

"Inuyasha," my mother said, concernedly, at dinner, cutting her meat into tiny little microscopic pieces, "you sounded very agitated today on the phone."

I snorted. "Agitated?" I grunted, shoveling potatoes into my mouth.

"Excessively so," Sesshoumaru replied, even though I wasn't fucking talking to him, "Half the block could have heard you _screaming_ about your grades at the top of your lungs."

"Yeah? Well, I think half the fuckin' _city_ could hear that irritating goddamn music you _insist_ on putting on every day," I snapped.

"Boys," my father warned. He wiped his mouth on his napkin and turned his attention to me. "Well, what really concerned us, son, is the phone call we got from your English teacher today."

I winced- Ushitaro. That gay fucking bitch…I felt red creep up onto my face, hating to have these little "talks" with my parents.

"He said that he was noticing a gradual decline in your grades," Mom said, gently. "He sounded concerned about your recent tiredness in your classes." She paused and looked at me with concern. "If something's troubling you, you can always talk to us."

I shrugged, embarrassedly. "I just needa get more sleep, I guess."

"Are you sure?" she said, frowning.

"Yeah, Ma. Jeez. I'm fine. Jeez," I said, shrugging again, spooning more potatoes into my mouth to avoid further discussion on the topic.

We ate in silence for a while, until Sesshoumaru got up, his utensils neatly stacked on his plate. "Well, if you're quite done with this display of familial affection, I'll be leaving," he said, coldly, putting his stuff in the sink and marching on upstairs.

>>>>>>>

I didn't hear from Jakotsu for a couple of days. Lucky for me- I aced every test I had, without that stupid homo calling me constantly. And, for the first time in a long time, I did _all_ my homework- no joke. I did _every single_ piece of homework I had, and studied some, too. I went out with Kagome twice in one week- record set!- and stayed away from cigarettes, alcohol, and stupidity- well, at least when I wasn't around _Miroku_.

I didn't really notice that he hadn't called in a while; I'd noticed that I was getting more fucking sleep, and that I was doing better in school. I noticed that I was acting happier, less grudging all the time, and I noticed, Jesus Holy _Fucking_ Christ, my _world_, my _life_, was so fucking inane. Everything I did and everyone I knew was routine and boring. Everyone I associated with was fucking retarded. Everything I did at home was nothing- I studied. Was _that_ the extent of my life?

When things got like this I never really understood it. I mean, I should've been happy, right? Well, of course I was happy- I was just so goddamned _bored_.

I was doing my history homework the Monday after, almost falling asleep to the bland decree of some stupid town, when I heard my mom calling me.

"Inuyasha! You have a visitor!"

I got up, rubbing my head exhaustedly.

"Inuyasha!"

"Yeah! Coming!" I called back, closing the cover of the book and running downstairs. "Yeah? What?" I asked. I looked at my mom, and then to the front door- my feet froze. I stopped dead, looking at Jakotsu, in my fucking front door, looking like a goddamned mess.

"You have a visitor," Mom smiled, and went off into the kitchen to finish cooking something or cleaning something.

I stared at him, the side of my mouth twitching. He looked at me silently. "Well, are you just gonna stand there like a retard or are you gonna gimme some reason as to why you're here?"

He smiled gently. "I made you something. It's real cool," he said, reaching into his backpack for something.

"Oh," I said, leaning against the wall. "Well, why'd you go and do that?"

"'Cause," he started, still searching through that goddamned backpack- what did he have in there? Nuclear weapons, torture devices, pornographic material- the usual? "'Cause you sounded really stressed and stuff, and when I'm stressed- here it is! Yay! Ow. Shit," he said, getting something out. He looked up at me and smiled, brushing the hair out of his face, "When I'm stressed, music makes me happy."

He handed me a small CD cover. I looked down at it- it was purple (what else was new with him), and had drawings in marker all over it; hearts filled in with crappy pen, caricatures of people he knew. He'd tried to scribble the song names on the back of the CD thing, but had crossed out so much and drawn so much over it that everything was incoherent. I struggled for some kind of uncomfortable words. "Uhm, thanks," I managed to get out. Of all the fucking things to do after I yell at him and call him inane, he makes me a CD. He grinned. I raised an eyebrow. "But don't think you're gonna get in my pants just 'cos you made me a CD."

"Aww," he whined.

"Sorry," I snapped, "I'm taken."

He laughed. "Aw, Yasha, you're so…I can't even explain it," he decided.

I shrugged. "Well, uhm, are you gonna stay or something?" I asked, immediately regretting the words.

"I wish," he snorted. He pouted. "My stupid mom is making me come home early because my stupid Dean had a talk with her about my 'appalling conduct.' What-_ever_." He rolled his eyes, but began to get all happy again, causing me to think that maybe he was bipolar or something. "Well, bye, Yash!"

"Yeah," I said, getting the door. I noticed, looking out after him, I guess to make sure that he didn't get run over or murdered on his way across the street, that he _still_ had no jacket. He shivered and walked off, looking down at the sidewalk, counting steps like a fucking kindergartner.

>>>>>>>

I skipped dinner. I didn't feel very hungry, and I had work- and, plus, I had this CD to listen to. Maybe it was the _music_ that kept me going on with him. Even when they're wasn't any playing I could still hear it, even though I didn't think of it as a big deal. I just thought of it like you think of movies, with a soundtrack playing in the background.

I sat down at the desk with my textbook and notebook and popped the CD into my stereo. I hit play and started to outline again.

It sounded like a mariachi trumpet, with the steady, rhythmic beat of a tambourine and a drum. The bass sounded like a Beatles song, melodic-like and boppy. A _woman_ started singing- I was taken by surprise. The only women _he_ listened to were Madonna and perverted girls, like that Chrissie Hyndes girl or whatever her name was. I'd heard this girl's voice before- it was soft but strong at the same time.

"_Old men, young men, preachers sayin' Amen, taking up collections, playing on the bass drum/ How come, the city, never sleeps, at night_…"

"Heh," I snorted, moving more comfortably into my chair. Just like me, lately. I tried to concentrate on the homework, but the song kept blaring in the background, all majestic and glamorous sounding, like big bands with a touch of jazz house.

"_Red cars, blue cars, payment-overdue cars, cops with indigestion, millionaires and some bums/ How come, the city, never sleeps, at niiiight_…"

I sat there, annoyed as all Holy Hell that I couldn't pin a name on this girl. Jesus- was she- no, that was the girl with the deep voice…Christ…Who _was_ this girl? I listened harder.

"_Short girls, tall girls, happy that they're all girls, walkin' with tonight's love, holdin' hands and then some/ How come, the city, never sleeps, at niightt_…"

I thought about Jakotsu- well, this seemed like the kind of music he would like, that kind of acid-trip-big-city music that some bands did, like journal music. I was lulled to sleep by the voice- I could hardly keep my head up, with visions of the city that I had never seen and big neon lights playing in my mind, with some girl with flipped hair singing,

"_Good guys, bad guys, women place-and-show guys, losers with their hands out, pigeons beggin' breadcrumbs/ How come, the city, never sleeps, at niiight_…"

>>>>>>>

I woke up an hour later; the CD was finished. I blinked, looking at the display on the stereo. Fifty-six minutes and forty-three seconds long. I played it again, skipping past number one, just in case I fell asleep again.

An airy guitar played. Wait. I'd heard this song before…the drums came in, and I instantly recognized it- _You Shook Me All Night Long_. I smirked- what a fucking song. I began to frown, though- thinking of Jakotsu and thinking of _this_ song provoked some disturbing-ass images…

"_She was a something-machine, she kept the motors clean, she was the best damn woman that I'd, ever seen_-"

I skipped the history homework- fuck it. If anyone cared least about the past right now, it was me. I couldn't deal with it, so I sped through my math homework and wrote an essay on _Brave New World_ and seriously considered breaking off all contacts with Jakotsu and went to sleep.

>>>>>>>

_A/N_: I am extremely tired now…writing, actually, depresses me, sometimes. Ahhmm…hmm…, uhm, well, that was a bridge chapter, (another bad bridge chapter), to connect between the next chapter and, well, you know, I can't move from one plot advancement to the next so quickly. Songs:

1) _The City Never Sleeps at Night_- Nancy Sinatra  
2) _You Shook Me All Night Long_- AC/DC  
3) Latin music that Sesshoumaru was listening to was a song by Mariani; number nine on her CD.  
4) The punk music he was listening to was, let's say, _I'm Waiting for the Man_ by Lou Reed, or _Seek and Destroy_ by Iggy and the Stoogesor _Success_ by Iggy Pop. Or _Louie Louie_, by the Sonics.

Bye. Happy New Year, Christmas.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

_A/N_: Wow! Longest chapter yet. Written in Nevada. Maybe Vegas is my creative place? Well, whatever. Here's a new chapter. Uhmmm, hahaha. By the way, I was tired and it was late when I did this, so don't be disheartened if I didn't respond, 'cause these are only the reviews for Chapter Seventeen, mmmm'kay?

_**Review Responses**_

_Kimmy_- That's a secret! Hee hee. Anyways, I hope this isn't too long- this chapter gives lots of insight into Inuyasha's personal relationships, so I hope you can draw something from that. Enjoy.

_CrimsonShiva_- Thank you! Isn't Sesshoumaru a big jerk? Anyway, yeah, I guess it is- relatable, I mean.

_Rose-in-May_- HAHAHA. They don't seem right, do they? Well, this gives a lot of insight into relationships, as I've said, so enjoy that. And, know, that's not the end! There have to be at least fifteen more chapters. Well, thirteen. It has to equal thirty-one, what with the epilogue and all.

_Hiroppon_- Thanks. Here's the new chappie.

_Shinimegami7_- Not even close! Well, somewhat. Was the uhmm Otafest good, btw? Anyway, him and Jakotsu are cute. Haha. Enjoy!

_Fagot_- Uhmm, thanks. I'm not dead, won't be for some time...but read on! Enjoy.

_Ile-_ Oh, I am so tired of reviews. Thank ye Gods it's almost over. Anywho, thanks! I like that it makes people laugh.

_Shadow Vampiress_- Ooooh, love. Hee hee. I would have castrated Sesshoumaru, too. I guess Inuyasha just likes making things difficult...jerk. That's very unnattractive. Did I spell that right? Anywho, sorry I left it dead so long...and enjoy.

_Hakuryuu_- Awwww, thanks...isn't writer's block the worst? Here's the update, anyway.

_Shinigami Goumon_- Oh, Gawd, the last review...uhmm, those monkeys hurt...Sorry to leave you hanging. It's a drag, what can I say. Anywho enjoy!

>>>>>>>

_Chapter Eighteen_

"Why do you have to play this fucking song?" I asked, flipping on the heat a little higher.

"Hmm- I don't know- because I _like it_, maybe," Kag replied, rolling her big doll eyes to the top of her head, all pout and frown and belligerence lately, like some screwy spoiled wife who always wants her way. It was that Irish girl singing- from the Cranberries- the song _Imagination_.

"Well, no shit," I grumbled, lowering my voice on the "shit" part- lately she'd been railing on me every time I hit the curse button- something about people cursing their "insecurities" away, or something. This was coming from the girl whose inner-anger language consisted of vocabulary more colorful than a fucking rainbow- who once called me "a fucking dick-sucking sodomizer whose defense would be worthless in Alabama." Now the language couldn't even mutter "stupid" for fear of insulting the many sensitive minds of the fucking numbheads around us. Sometimes I wondered why I even _bothered_ with girls.

Wait. Did I just say...I shook my head of the thoughts, fast and discreet motion so she wouldn't notice. And even if she did, I wasn't going to give her a chance to breathe a word- so I changed the subject quick. "Besides, it's not the quality- it's the quantity."

"I'm not catching your drift," she huffed with a snobby turn of the head.

"I mean- do you have to _replay_ the song over and _over_?" I asked, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, looking ahead at the cars in front of us, the street as it filled with the obedient cars heeding to the color red. I make metaphors like a poet. T.S. Eliot should kiss my toes. Pshaw.

She paused, and furrowed her brows. "You know, you've got some nerve! You know, it's one thing to-"

"Look, just forget it! Gawd, why do you always have to drag the fucking subject?" I spat, pressing on the gas.

"No, listen to me! You always do this! You insult me and then you want to drop it when there's an argument," she replied, with a tone of disbelief in her squeak of a voice. Gawd, what the hell ever happened to "kiss and make-up"? I was starting to think of the possibilities of having a shallow girlfriend, from now on. Least _they_ didn't drag subjects like they were tug-wagons. "You know, my _therapist_ said that you do that because _you're_ afraid of change and confrontation-"

"Jesus Christ, now you talk about me to your _therapist_!" I huffed, looking both ways before driving clear through the intersection. Call me OCD, but at least I'm always prepared for the worst. "What the Hell _am_ I, some fucking subject!"

"Yes! As a matter of fact, you are," Kagome replied, wanting to push the subject. If girls ruined everything in music, that was fine with me. What _wasn't_ fine with me was that they pulled fucking _useless_ subjects with them, luggage through the airport of their dulling lives, goddammit, I am _so_ good at this metaphoric shit that I should release as book of the stuff. _Metaphors_ by I.J. Miyazaki. Like F. Scott Fitzgerald. Or Hunter S. Thompson. Catchy name, no? Anything to distract me from her pressing voice. "You are because you pull stupid crap like _this_ on me! I deserve to be respected, too, you know? You're a pig!"

"Look! Just _drop_ it! Why can't you ever just _drop the subject!_ If you really want to solve something, just shut yer trap for once!" I exclaimed, slamming on the break at a stop sign.

"Why can't you ever confront one!" she exclaimed, ignoring my further sentiment.

"Because I don't like fucking wasting my time, that's why!"

"Oh, so this is a big waste of your time. You have got _some_ nerve, Inuyasha Miyazaki."

"I didn't say that!"

"What _did_ you say, then? Look at me, for once, when we talk!"

I didn't even pass her a shooting glance; my eyebrows were furrowing, and there was a small sweat coming on from the heat in the car. "I'm fucking_ driving_, you psychopath!" I burst out, "Can you not see the fucking _road_!"

"I mean actually pay _attention_ to me! Now, I don't know what's going on in your life right now, and I'm sure it's just _terrible_, what with your two-story house and your shrubs and your new clothing and loving _family_, but I deserve the same respect as always!" she said, making a wild hand motion and slamming her delicate fist on the gray plastic of the dashboard, all anger and hissing and flames. Kagome's anger wasn't for the weak of stomach- mostly she was worse than _me_. Plus, she had a temper like a fuckin' redhead. Flamey, and everything. It would just blow up at you and you'd be so flustered and cluttered in the head that you didn't know what you were saying. Even _Miroku_ couldn't talk his way out of an argument with her, and that was _bad_. "I mean, which moon are you _on_ lately? I can't even reach you! Even teachers are concerned! Even my _friends_ are concerned, and it takes a _lot_ to make them concerned for _your ass_! Every turn I make it's, 'Oh, is Inuyasha okay_ this_', and, 'My, is Inuyasha okay _that_'. I can't even answer because I don't even know! I mean, help me _out,_ for once! Going to parties, driving home in God knows what condition, buying cigarettes for your best friend! Where _are_ you, Inuyasha Jay! Just tell me the truth! Help me out." That was the worst- when she called me "Inuyasha _Jay_", that was about as concerned as she'd ever get.

"Nothing! Nothing," I said, quieting my tone, "Nothing. Nothing's going on. I mean, no, I'm fine. I'm stressed. It's school. I don't know. I really don't fucking know." I don't know how that all came out- but it was the right thing to say and it just poured out. And there was even quiet. There was a pause- a strange, understanding vague silence. And I looked each way at the intersection, trying to distract myself- oh Gawd, from anything. And Kagome paused a motion and put her hands on her lap, tapping on a denim thigh. Hmmm. Kag once told me that she was a Sagittarius, and that's why she liked the truth. I guess it was true, even though I didn't know shit about it.

The sun came through the blue of the window, crowning her forehead with a deep medicine color, shining on the back of the head of the seat as she turned her head from me. She'd turned her head with this look in her eyes- I could see it in the rearview mirror- and the looks were different in each eye. One eye was- sad. Confused. Concerned. Dimly lit on purpose. The other was teary, angry, twitching a little more. Her eyebrows furrowed. She opened her mouth.

"This is- go down the block here. I'm studying at Aki's today," she said. She'd changed the song- I could fucking cry- she'd changed the song. For me. "It's the…the yellow house. It was- this is 'Lullaby'," she said, pointing out the shivering bongos and guitar of the song. She knew I was thinking about it, what I'd said. How did she know I'd been thinking about it? She could read me like a book, always could. Just sometimes she got it in her head that she was confused. Really she was just too aware of me to face it…that…"I'm concerned. No, I should stop. Have a good day," she said, opening the door as I pulled up to the pale yellow Colonial. Her shirt was from American Eagle- plaid and Victorian sleeves- and her jeans were darked out. She was- so cute. Bleh, my God, I hated this romantic shit, but she was. She was small. Toned. A little filled out around the love handles and the thighs, but small. Curvy, I guess, just a little.

"You- too," I said, near choked out in fucking anger, as the door slammed and she walked away. Gawd, I was talking to myself now. Fucking disaster. "You have a good day, sergeant," I saluted, watching her go in the house- and then spinning fucking off in my rocket as she left, goin' back to space, red on the inside with fucking anger and frustration and this dim lit hopelessness in some fucking weird struggle against happening and new and change. Metaphors. My heart was red and my mind was a bull. _Fucking_ metaphors.

>>>>>>>

I dashed out to Bloomingdale's later in the city to crash on the Christmas deal. I mean, it wasn't even fucking Thanksgiving yet, but everyone had Christmas on the mind- when it came to prices and bargains, that was. Thanksgiving was basically kinda inconsequential and un-universal, but the way that it is is the way that it is, I guess. It's people's minds. They don't have Thanksgiving anywhere but America, but they _do_ have Bloomingdale's, so the craze is universal.

It was freezing cold and late in mid-November. I had school tomorrow, but that was…Hell, I needed to get away from Bayside for a while. Bloomingdale's probably wasn't the place to go if you wanted to "get away," but then again everyone was Christmased out there and no one would really pay attention to me so I guess it was okay.

Besides, I needed to get a pretty clear idea of what gifts to get everyone. I mean, it wasn't really "me" I guess- I guess people imagine me vomiting all over the place and shitting in gift boxes on Jesus's birthday, but then again people don't really fucking know me, so they wouldn't know, would they? I guess, well, that if I wasn't an openly "caring" person, I was at least considerate. Polite. Cordial. I didn't really care enough about rebellion to shit on tradition, and besides it was an okay enough tradition, I guessed. I got presents and it was one of the few days my Aunt Kim came out to visit, besides Easter and Memorial Day Weekend (which I couldn't understand, but whatever), so it was okay. I usually got generic stuff like spoons and spatulas and aprons and the occasional spa kit, stuff like knife sets for my dad and measuring spoons for my mom and shit like books or cologne or new headphones for my brother, mainly shit I saw in advertisements. Cigarettes for Miroku. Perfume for Kagome. Generic, and besides I didn't put too much thought or emphasis on anything, so it wasn't like I was all- "CHRISTMAS!"- on the 25th. I mean, it wasn't…wasn't like fucking weird. It was just me. I mean. Nothing weird.

It was maybe a half an hour's drive to the Bloomingdale's in the city, where everyone wore trench tan camel coats and stiletto boots, fifty minutes if the traffic was gay. I don't know why I went to the one in Bloomingdale's- maybe because that's the greatest. There's a huge display in the glass store windows that's lined with tinsel and gold, and fake snowy powdery crap sometimes is falling. There's a train and everything, trees and stuff. It smells like pine and candles. It's super fucking warm and there are huge ass trees- like _huge_. They're green, with these _decorations_. Sometimes it's multi-colored but you see a lot of the trees that are all gold or all silver. It's pretty great. There's rotisseries and sweaters on sale, too. It's got a warm Christmasey feel.

Nobody really pays attention to you when you're in that store, especially around Christmas. Everything is grandiose. You just kinda loop through your own little mind-head-world. It's not like I had any money or anything, but it was nice and it was good to think for the head. I mean, nobody's really gonna effing bother you when there's a huge fucking Nutcracker being put up by store employees, right? Right.

I mean, Jesus gets more attention than Inuyasha Miyazaki by a triple. Or does he? Sometimes with people like Kouga- Jakotsu- criminals like Bankotsu, or that guy who shot Kagome's cousin, or whatever- even Miroku- I didn't really think paid all too much attention to the guy. Just the statue in the manger, I guess.

But that was all mainstream shit- not like anyone hadn't thought of that before. It wasn't all too fucking original, my thought process. I was- conventional? Confined? Was Jakotsu right?

Jakotsu. Christmas was coming up, and I'd been too stupid to push him out of my life before I had to spend _money_ on him. Goddammit. Here I was, bragging to him about how fucking pragmatic I was. Did I come off like I _wanted_ to buy him something?

What the Hell would a gay guy want for _Christmas_, though? I thought heathens were _burned_ on Christmas. I'd have to fucking use that…anyway there was lots of stuff on display. Stuff like deer sweaters. Hell no. If I bought that then he'd fucking go out and _embarrass_ me with it, and I already had _enough_ trouble with Miroku's colorful taste for hats and ties and other bullshit that he pulled outta his ass.

Wait. Was I just thinking of going out with Jakotsu?

I shook my head. This was too much. I'd been around that fag too often- I was starting to…be different, anyhow, in the simplest terms you could put it. Was I? Christ, all these questions. There _was_ no fucking question, even. There was only the answer- _yes yes yes_. Well, what in the God Hell of Jesus was I _supposed_ to do about it? I had no experience in dealing with psychos, and- and…Maybe I thought I was too impenetrable, too stable. Maybe I thought I was like a rock. Well, pshaw. I fucking was. There was no fucking debate or need to debate anyway because I _was_. A fucking rock, I mean. An island. A winter's day. Like that song…

Speaking of songs, there was the issue of Kagome. My God, she was an issue in and of herself. There was- she was- Christ, I didn't even know. There were just these _things_ about her that I had no clue how to deal with them. Like- how much we argued. How she liked faggoty Damien Rice type girly man music. The way she insisted that I wear tighter jeans because it was "fashiony in a rock star way." But when did _she_ start caring about rock stars?

In fact, when did she start caring about…shit? The way I talked. The way I dressed. My facial expressions. I mean, what fucking _right_ did she have to pull that stuff with me? I mean- it was _my_ life. She was only a slice of it, but this was _my_ pie. Inuyasha Pie Miyazaki. Deal with it- I mean, where did she get off being all high-and-mighty? Getting all fucking huffy because I had a- a had a goddamn life! Well, piss on that! Stupid Kagome, I swear…

But that…that was…all wrong. It was all wrong and I knew it. My thoughts were whirling, turning red with all this psycho babble anger I had in me. I needed to be numb for a while. I needed to…I needed to slow down.

I stopped in the toy department when I saw the glaring light of a steel train road reflecting white and orange and green and blue in the corners of my eyes. There was a green and red train- like the models I used to collect when I was a kid. What the Hell happened to _those_, anyway? What happened to those models? They were pro'ly worth a _lot_ of money.

I was wrong. Even the goddamn train knew it. The nutcracker knew it. The _trees_ fucking knew it, and when trees know_ anything_, it's serious fucking business. I mean, here I was, talking about what right did _she_ have, and where-did-_she_-get off, and all that bull. But here I was.

It wasn't always like that. We weren't _always_ arguing, and we weren't _always_ so goddamned melodramatic. Once there was- once we really _did_ like being around each other, when we'd spit bile at each other and I'd try to get her attention and act like an immature idiot baby around her, all pouts and frowns and red in the face when she asked me if I thought she was smart or cute or what I don't really remember, trying, wanting to get alone with her, that one summer, where she thought that I thought that she was going out with Kouga or I was still with Jennifer-Anne, or something twisty like that. We played a lot of Cure songs that summer. She liked the Cure. Said _Just Like Heaven_ was our theme song. Pshaw.

Now that there was Jakotsu, I felt something happening. I felt the fucking brew of life stirring somewhere on the nervous distance, and I was too chicken shit to acknowledge it. But it was inevitable. It was something I could see coming when that dickface was shaking his leg, now that I really thought about it. I could see something weird- new- real unfamiliar. I could see that- fucking asshole, that he'd ruin everything I knew and worked for. Fucking _asshole_. If there was _anyone_ who didn't have the _fucking_ right, it was _him_. Screwing up _everything_. And all for- what? The truth? Liberation? Boredom? A hot fuck? What? What was all that fucking _for_?

Maybe Kagome could see it too? She'd always been as perceptive as me, eerily more so. But. What fucking _ever_. This was all dramatic, and…

"Are you gonna buy that?"

I looked down. Some creepy little ginger kid with a black headband and a purple-gold-glitter-tie dye Urban Outfitters-ish shirt was lookin' up at me. I snorted.

"Why the Hell would I do _that_?" I asked, partly scoffing and partly confused and fucking _creeped_ that a little kid-girl would just fucking approach me like that. I mean, _me_, of all the people in the store.

She wrinkled her nose. "Because you look _gay_," she said, in that na-na-na-na-na voice that told me she didn't know what gay _really_ meant.

"Well, piss on your mother, then!" I spat, rolling my eyes at her huffily and looking back at the silvery railroad on the mini train station model, spinning, looping, round round into a weirdly jagged figure eight, if not for the lightning bolt piece of track at the near top of the thing.

She gasped and her eyes widened- freaky green-blue eyes against her dumb freckles. Dumb dummy freaking girl…"Don't blame it on me just 'cause you're _gay_," she said, her voice lifting stronger, as if really meaning to get into some heated argument with me. Yeah. Tch. Wasn't gonna _happen_. I could kick her silly ass to Chinatown and break her nose _anytime_. Even now. Straight through the windows and down into SARS land…

"Look, _Freckles_," I said, turning toward her with a bargaining tone. She wrinkled her nose when I said "Freckles." I knew how to pick on a kid pretty good. "You wanna get beaten silly? I got no interest in talking to ya, kid."

She pursed her lips. "You're mean," she said, sticking her tongue out, "I was only asking, you damn fool." Christ- _kids_ these days. Especially in New York. She'd probably heard her parents say it (probably to each other), but, Gawd, fucking _kids_. All of them vulgar fuckin' _pottymouths_, trained from the start to insult in anger and flip off the nearest Arab taxi driver. Kids in New York, especially girls, were a savage bunch of fuckin' _killers_ that I wouldn't trust more than Al Capone. Little brat wenches…

"Look, Lolita, save it," I said, rolling my eyes, "I'm busy."

She scrunched up her face again, wincing a little, and then biting her bottom lip, twirling her hair. "I was only _talking_ to you because you were cute, _anyway_!" she defended, with this _stupid _childish indifference, "I don't actually want to be your _friend_. And my name's not _Lolita_, anyhow. That's a retarded name. My name's _Heather_. I was named after-"

"I think I see Santa," I answered, "So whydontcha scadaddle before he goes back to the North Pole?"

"I don't like you anyway! You're gay!" she answered, trotting off to her mother- a fine piece of work in black slacks and a white button top, a working woman, I guessed, with honey blonde hair and glittery eyeshadow.

"Ah, you're goin' to Hell anyway," I answered. But I was more answering to myself than her- more answering to the person in my mind that kept telling me not to be such a fucking dick.

>>>>>>>

Anyway I was looking for jewelry in where else but the jewelry department, and I was thinkin' some about Kagome…these women all reminded me of Kag, with their rushed self-conscious sorta gaits when they walked, the way the looked like they had somewhere to go. Kag always acted like she had somewhere to go. I had to figure out why that was, sometime. Well, it could do with the fact that she always _did_ have something to do. Kag was like a juggler, I think- she always had to care about _stuff_, seeing as how her mom was always working and her little brother needed to be taken care of, and there were household chores, and everything. Kagome's house did really even have _one_ floor, save two- it was a teeny house with two bedrooms, a rec room where her little brother Souta slept and one bathroom, and a real small kitchen that sort of leaned in on the living room. So I guess she had stuff to worry about. I guess.

I was looking through the display cases when I saw this necklace- looked classy, like it coulda been ripped offa Jackie O. Triangle diamonds leading up to a big _thing_ in the middle, this circle-y kind of oval-ish _thing_. I wasn't sure if it was some kinda sapphire or something, but it pro'ly wasn't- it looked like turquoise, just with some other color. Real nice stuff. But where would someone actually _wear_ that? Like all those stupid trends- leggings, fluttery shirts, tight jeans and motorcycle jackets- who actually _wore_ that shit?

I moved on to the next piece of jewelry. No way in _Hell_ would I buy something like that for Kagome. That was embarrassing, and besides I wouldn't be surprised if I had to sell my _house_ to buy that shit. No way in Hell, so I moved on. There were other necklaces- all tacky and shit- and there were bracelets, the kind my mom used to wear in the seventies, big and chunky. If there was anything I didn't want Kagome to look like, it was my goddamn _mother_…there was other stuff. Earrings. I kind of liked the way it looked when Kagome put on her earrings- it looked girly, feminine, and real attractive (maybe only 'cause it was Kagome). So maybe I'd buy her earrings.

There was a pair of dangly earrings that I would of liked on her- dark silver and with these designs…and little turquoise things hanging off 'em. I asked the lady at the counter how much they were.

"Oh, those? That's a wonderful choice- they're made of real silver and turquoise- and the designs are subtle. May I ask for whom you're buying them?" she asked, taking an interest.

I furrowed my eyebrows and looked away while I spoke, creeped out that she would be so interested. "My uhmm girlfriend," I answered curtly. Well, blame _me_ for not wanting to get into a conversation with a _saleslady_ of all people. Don't lecture me- you do it to telemarketers all the time. Besides, at the moment, I wasn't really appreciating niceties. I'd had enough of people, for today- after that little girl and the fight with Kagome and thinking about Jakotsu, I was all peopled-out by now.

"Oh! That's a lovely choice," she said, taking them out of the display case and jabbering on for a bit about the _intricacy_ and the _beauty_ and the _simplicity_, when all _I_ wanted was the fucking price, oh God, _please_ get me out of this…she asked me if I had any further questions.

"Yea. How much?" I asked, looking at it closer- the light was glinting in the Christmas lights they were putting up.

"Oh- fifty dollars," she said, checking her watch, instantly sounding _bored_ and _uninterested_.

"Oh. Thanks. How much is _that_ thing?" I asked, pointing to a monster ring, fucking big diamond _rock_. I couldn't even see the _band_, that's how huge it was. I just wanted to buy something like _that_- fuck practicality. I wanted Kagome to wear something like _that_, something so big she couldn't lift her _finger_, so she could brag to her friends and everyone would live happily ever fuckin' after…

"Oh- that _ring_?" she asked, looking at me, taking note of my age, or something. "That's…wow, that's about five-hundred dollars-"

"Jesus," I muttered.

"Come again?" she said, holding her left ear with an award-winning smile slapped silly on her face.

"I said thanks," I grumbled, nodding her off and going away to look for other stuff. I just wanted Kagome to know I actually, you know, _liked_ her.Appreciated her. I figured a diamond could do it- because I certainly couldn't.

I didn't end up buying her a diamond, though. I ended up buying her a Smiths CD, the one that has that "There Is a Light and It Never Goes Out" song on it, and a raspberry-cranberry candle, or something like that. All impersonal shit. I didn't want to seem too obvious.

>>>>>>>

Besides- Jakotsu had told me that diamonds were tacky on girls who weren't forty or older. That was true- diamonds were old and stuffy and powdery, not girls that were- you know, young. Besides, simple things were good. Even if they weren't earrings. Or fuckin' monster diamonds.

I wondered, for some reason, how to say "diamonds" in Spanish (okay, so some weird shit pops into my head- at least I'm always _thinking_, you heathens). I'd ask Jakotsu. He would know- he spoke like, what, fifty fuckin' languages? I wondered how, with his ADD and everything, he'd learned to speak so many…and interchangeably. I guess 'cause his parents were direct immigrants. Both his parents had something of an accent- his Dad had that kind of hurried, harsh sort of Asian thing goin' on, and his mom had a bit on an annoying, nasaly French accent- so she couldn't pronounce her "th"-s correctly. It kind of made me laugh every time I thought of her saying "the world." Hardy har har.

I wondered how his dad and his mom had met. I mean, it's not like they met at the fucking _model_ convention, or anything. I mean, his dad already had _liver spots_, for Christ's sake. He wore glasses and had thinning hair and his head was big and square. But his mom- annoying as she was, she was fucking gorgeous. Maybe it was arranged. Or maybe it was like he said, maybe his mom was a "wine-guzzling icky gold-digger whore." I'd have to ask him that, too.

Some days I actually did look forward to the call- no. That wasn't right. I _never_ fucking looked forward to those calls. It was- it was just that I was just _so fucking BORED_. Miroku was always "too busy" to talk or even _do_ anything (not like I had any fucking problems with _that_- most likely he only got me into trouble, anyway, and with school and Kagome and my _parents_ and, oh, not to mention, _Jakotsu_, I did not need to be sitting in a police station with my tail between my legs). Kagome was always "studying" or "out with friends lol" or "doing homework, lmao," so she was always a no-go. Other than that I didn't really have many friends. Not really any that I wanted to talk to, anyway. And not any that would use up five fingers on my right hand…

So I was bored. Sometimes I would make a bet with myself- in which hour will he call and ruin my day? Mostly, it was either eleven in the morning (on weekends) and nine at night, or it was six in the evening and two in the morning (the reason why I don't get much sleep). I mean, I _could have_ just shut off my phone. _That_ was a major possibility. And there was always that question in my head- "why the Hell _not_?" Maybe it was like he said, he was impossible to ignore. I thought maybe that I should conduct some kinda study- wear glasses and a long white coat- and put him in a room with the most apathetic people in the world, just to see what would happen. I mean, not really even my brother could _completely_ ignore him, either because he was real different or extremely annoying. I thought the latter, but, hey, what do I know.

I was on the street now. It was _freezing_ fucking cold- it had the effing nip that November air always had- "I am November and I will blow you away and there is absolutely nothing you can do about my icy breath, so shut the fuck up and put a coat on." It was like someone was pinching your skin or punching you in the teeth every time a breeze came by. I was thinking of stopping in a coffee shop, but then again that was where all the gay bohemian-poseurs and nasty hippies hung out, and I was _not_ any part of that crowd whatsoever, no way, no how. Besides, since when did _I_ drink grande-mocha-frappa-choco-denim-jacket-mocha-lattes? Or whatever the Hell they were. Since, like, oh yeah, _never_.

There was a guy on the street doing ring tricks- some fag in a regular casual getup, all denim work jeans and green shirt and stuff. He was flipping rings around, up and down, through his arms and shit. All the tourists were just _eating it up_. New York tourists were the absolute worst. In fact I've got a not-so-secret desire to have them all mugged and robbed and clubbed on the street. Teach them to walk around like idiots, goddammit…and it's not like they came to Bayside, anyway, so that was a plus for me.

I wondered when they would do the Thanksgiving Day Parade and thought Jakotsu might enjoy the faggotry going around. I mean, ring tricks, big balloons, Midwestern white people? He would fucking _love_ this.

I mean, all of a sudden I was thinking of what _he_ would like. When did _that_ fucking happen? I shook my head at myself. I was convincing myself that I was getting sucked in, that was all. And besides I was so used to him that, you know, it wouldn't make any difference anyway…I mean, I hoped…

I was thinking of getting a pretzel (and then deciding against it when I saw the big dirty Greek guy manning the stand) when I saw this…familiar figure walking through the crowd. He was semi-tall, brown suede jacket, longish hair, little on the dark side…where had I seen him from before? I couldn't see his face, but…he was approaching a large set of steps, when he turned my way. I saw his face- oh. John- the better-looking guitarist guy. What the Hell was _he_ doing here? I rose an eyebrow- I'd expect him to be in some boondock hoedown, not carousing in New York City. He was suspicious, on a whole- he looked like a Midwesterner. Why was Jakotsu even wasting his _time_ on this guy? Then again, why waste his time on _me_? Well, feh. Whatever he wanted to do was not any of my business, and that was more comfortable for me, anyway.

But he was looking persistently in my direction. I wondered why. I raise a hand grudgingly to acknowledge him, but he wasn't waving at me- he was waving at someone behind me? I looked around…and suddenly I was pushed by a small blonde girl in a long camel trench coat and stiletto boots (the fucking _epitome_ of New York trendy), waving madly and…wait.

Wait just one mind boggling fucking second.

I cocked my head- was she…she ran toward him and hugged him. He kissed her on the cheek. Oh, my fucking Gawd! Oh, fucking _Jesus_. That _fucking _asshole. He laughed at something and they just looked oh-so-peachy-_happy_ and _wonderful_ together that I felt like socking that bastard in the face every time that sunshine fucking _smile_ crept onto his face. Fucking toad…that jerk.

She was smaller than Jakotsu. She was more tanned, too. I mean, he was the Pilsbury fucking _Doughboy_, so _that_ was a given. She looked angular. She had a small little face, a pointy chin, a bit of a large forehead, toothy smile, fucking sharp little upturned nose, like a fucking witch…more generic than Jakotsu. Trendier than Jakotsu. More attractive than Jakotsu. Neatly pulled back gold-blonde hair, pulled so tight that it shone and there were no bumps and her hair was straight and slick and clean…even _cleaner_ than Jakotsu. Neater. Prettier. Blonder. Better. More pure. More gentle. Smarter. The list went fuckin' _on_ and _on_.

I'd fucking kill both of them. I'd- I'd take a fucking _bat_, mash his face in. I mean, it was none of my business, but what a _sick_ fucking _bastard_. Fucking sicko- fucking weird guitarist sicko, I'd kill him. Kick him in the nuts and push her onto the pretzel cooker and run away. Fucking sick jerk…he looked at me. His face fell- like suddenly he was saying "oh, it's Inuyasha, that one _guy_." He stayed that way for a moment. The look on my face was- bewildered. Like fucking stunned. Like someone had just kicked me in the brain and I couldn't think on how or why or when or what it happened…my eyes were widened. My mouth was grim but bland and bleakly expressionless. I'm guessing I was getting red in the face (embarrassed and/or angry), or there were those wrinkles around my face- those wrinkles people get when they're, I dunno, stunned, or something. He must've seen those, seen that. Fucking bastard shit motherfucking sicko…he forced a weak, fishy smile and raised his hand, with a limp wave. Fucking arrogant jerk. Pulling that _shit_ just 'cause he was, you know, good-_looking_, could play the _guitar_, was oh-so _desireable_. Fucking jerk. And even treating _her_ like that- kicking her in the face every time he saw Jakotsu. Oh, my God. I wasn't so stunned at the fact that he was cheating on two people than with the fact of how fucking _sick_ that was. I mean, I felt like throwing up. Imagine that. Ewwwww, I mean, _sick sick SICK_. I couldn't even wave back.

She turned around, seeing who he was waving at. She was looking around, confused-ish. He turned her back around and said something- and then they laughed and went up the stairs. He walked nervous. Fucking…

Well, wow. I mean, _wow_. I never…I walked in something of a daze as the rings went up and down and the people shouted around me. So, wow, _that_ was what he meant by "straight"- that they liked getting down with him, but much more _preferred_ to love _her_. I mean, jeez. Now I understood. Damn, I wish I _didn't_ understand.

>>>>>>>

Relationships. I mean, relationships. All of 'em, worthless and confusing. I was thinking of calling Jakotsu. I came so close, too. I dialed his phone number and the message came on- and he picked up. I mean, I wasn't doing him a special _favor_ or anything, right? It was just casual. It was just that he had a right to know, right? So I wasn't doing anything out of my way or anything, not looking out for him, particularly. Right? Just casual.

Oh, very casual. "Hey, uhmm, I just saw your fuck-buddy with some blonde chick. Yeah man! Sweet. Let's do pizza on Tuesday, and while we're at it, let's go drinking with the news team for two days! Wonderful. Ciao."

Not likely...,well, anyway, I dialed, and he picked up- that's where I lft off-

"Hello?" he asked, yawning- I could probably imagine what he was doing. Sleeping. "Oh, uhmm, John? This you?"

Oh, Gawd. I couldn't even- John! He was even _asking_ for that dipshit! "Oh, _please_ take advantage of me-" oh, well, I'd have _none_ of it. None- the minute he said "John" a rising nervous prickling rose up to my chest, making me feel helpless, stuck, and I slammed the "END" button on the phone with a jerking movement, and threw the phone hard into the backseat, clutching the steering wheel with nervous hands, as if the _steering wheel_ of all things would help me calm my nerves. It was silent- then I jumped when _Warning_ came muffled yet loud from the backseat- I would _have_ to fucking change that ringer…my hand searched for the phone. When I got it, I looked at the screen, which revealed, to my dread:

_17185601294_

Oh, _God_. I pressed down on the "END" button immediately, tossing it again into the backseat. I inhaled sharply. Hot _damn_, I needed to stay _away_ from all these _freaks_.

>>>>>>>

It was nighttime now. I just finished doing my homework- I'd been doing it in a McDonald's parking lot (now, don't think I eat _that_ bullshit- if anything I try to keep at least a fifty yard limit between myself and _any_ surrounding fast-food palaces). I wasn't really ready to go home yet. I mean, not yet. I didn't really feel right, taking that kinda attitude home. I mean, taking those fucking _images_ home. Imagine what my _mother_ would say…well, fuck that. I had other…shit to do.

I thought about going home for a while, or else getting something to eat. I was fucking starving, and I actually wouldn't have minded a bit of that greasy-disgusting capitalist bullshit right then and there. I looked for my wallet in my jean pocket, and discovered that I only had a twenty dollar bill. I didn't feel like getting change, so I decided to fuck it and just drive home.

Wait…but that did _not_ feel right just then. I shifted into go-motion and headed off. It was fucking dark now- what time was it? Seven? Eight? It was already purple-black out…I guess it would be a good time to get home. I sighed and listened to silence for a while, and then turned on the radio when I got fucking bored of that.

Some boppy-rocky tune came on…that song by the Strokes. Juicy-juice, or whatever the fuck it was. I really wasn't in the mood for obnoxious rock music right then, much less anything that was slightly _happy_, so I turned the station. I mean, why the fuck should _it_ be happy and _me_ not be happy at all? Didn't make any fucking sense. I mean, the least they could do was cooperate…I wondered why this always happened when I was in a shitty mood.

I went past those weirdo Spanish channels and went to Z100…where they were playing, what else, but fag music. Most likely they had a broad team of homosexuals putting together their daily mixes…I tuned it to K-ROCK. Talk shows. Stupid fucking…I almost slammed the radio looking for something halfway _decent _to listen to…goddammit, what CDs did I have, anyway? I pressed the load button and waited for the little "CD1 TRACK 1" signal to start blaring- but all I got was a "NO MAGAZINE" signal.

"Fucking shit!" I hissed, slamming on the radio…I was _not_ in the mood for this bull right now, oh Holy _God_, I wasn't in the mood…I had just gotten into a tremendous fight with my girlfriend, seen a homo with a straight girl, almost _talked_ to a homo, and _royally_ screwed everything up, oh, and, not to mention, with a twenty dollar fucking _bill_ and an _empty fucking STOMACH_. I was about to go insane. Oh, Jesus. I wish sometimes the guy would listen to me…

I grumbled some curses and switched the stations. Well, what the shit- there was no use going all pussy now. A college radio station came on…or something.

The music was mellow and it was nighttime music, so I listened. Pearl Jam. The only classic rock music I actually knew. The guitar was airy but it came on…strong, it was like it knew what mood I was in. I sped up a little. Oh, fucking Hell. When I was alone it was so much better.

I was coming on streetlights. I think Miroku had told me this was originally a Led Zeppelin song, or something…I couldn't remember. The streetlights were glaring this bright affirmation, this wide-eyed future, this sort of fuck-it-all hope that was me, that was just entirely _me_ at the moment…I felt like I was, God, I felt like I was flying, or something, I felt goddamn _powerful_. Well, more than usual- what power did I have, anyway? Not over my girlfriend. Not over my social life. Not over my goddamn _phone_.

The car was power, though. I could fucking _laugh_ myself to death in this car- at this particular song- "fuck you all! I am driving over the Brooklyn Bridge!" I would be, soon. Fuck it. Fuck it all.

The streetlights were gleaming overhead, passing one by one, and I was feeling golden. I was a goddamn CHAMPION. With the pedal and the gas and the speed and the car, I was champion. It was all me. The chorus came and the streetlights passed, one by one, stark and glory against the dark night sky, and the guitar was blaring, and Eddie Vetter was creepier than ever. Screaming, "FLY!" Oh, fuck it all! I hated to be the jock sort but at the moment I felt like it. I was always a lot better by myself. Screw people. I was by myself.

>>>>>>>

The song had ended five minutes ago. The new song was coming on- _Zombie_ by the Cranberries. The Cranberries…I was feeling grim now. I always remembered my moods better when I was alone…well, that didn't help. I was still a fucking jerk, penalizing her about the _Cranberries_, of all things. I could never say what I really wanted, but then again, did she have to be such a weener face? I mean, Jesus _Christ_, I'd fall on my feet and praise _Allah_ if I ever met a girl who didn't like trouble.

But, then again, trouble was what I was causing by…God, what _was_ I fucking doing, lately? Gallivanting with faggots? Arguing with braided midgets? Thinking about _relationships_? Hanging out with _Miroku_? What the Hell was I doing? I tried to think back, think back to when all that shit started happening…

Oh, yes. That one _fine_ fucking day in October, when I had to go visit the _therapist's_. I mean, Holy Fucking Hell. It was Kagome's fault, dammit! Not mine. Never mine…

I always contemplated Jakotsu. Not really him, but myself more. Like, about why I hung out with him. Why I didn't sleep too often. I was talking to him more and more and that scared the shit out of me. I mean, I was Inuyasha Jay Miyazaki- cold sarcasm, hard practicality, morning schedules, big books, strict discipline, and fried chicken were my dishes of choice. And now I was…hanging out with faggots. I had never been anti-homo. They made me uncomfortable, yeah, but as long as they didn't bother _me_ (which they often did) they could go about their rainbow-hugging-joy-boy-tight-shirts-and-jeans-business. Be a fag if you want to. Just don't be _Jakotsu_, of all people to be.

I was more anti-Jakotsu than anti-fag. He stood for everything I didn't like- flimsy-whimsy-delicate shit. Forgetfulness. Laziness. Dumbness. Flower power. Class systems. Irresponsibility. Franco-Americans. Psychopathy. Why did I even bother? I had told myself I was bored, but this reached beyond boredom. I was listening to the _Pretenders_, for God's sake. I mean, there _had_ to be a reason.

I changed the station to another nearby college radio station. The Cranberries weren't my people of choice, right then. Dave Matthews was playing- of course. Him and the Cardigans were _so_ fucking collegy.

The song was _Crash_. I was heading over the Brooklyn Bridge…this was nighttime music, too. I remember my brother listening to a lot of Dave Matthews when I was younger with his girlfriends. I remember a cover of _No Rain_ by Blind Melon being played over and over and _over_ again. Also, a lot of the Smiths. That and lots of Elvis music and Frank Sinatra was a big part of my childhood.

It made me think of Kagome- the song, I meant. I really, really liked her and everything, but…there really was something lacking. Or something like that. Maybe there was a therapist term for _that_.

The next song that came on was that Jay-Z song. Where he's talking to the girl? "Can I get a wuh-wuh?" I smirked and turned the volume up. I liked this kind of music- it was "Hell _yes_" kind of music, and I liked it. My girlfriend Jennifer-Anne and I broke up over the song. There had been a lot of tension about Kagome, and stuff, and the song had come on in the car. It was freshman year. The song had come on and Jennifer-Anne had said something about how it "marginalized women" and "was sexist and degenerate" and "vulgar" (_someone_ had been on the fucking Oprah train for a _little_ too long- but, hey, maybe I should shut up). I said that it was just _music_ and it was shit like that and that she should shut up because she wasn't always right. She told me that she was going to get out of the car and she didn't speak to me after that. Jennifer-Anne was neat and practical and a real hard-ass, with tightly pulled, neat blonde hair, perfectly stenciled eyebrows, hard gray eyes, formulated tan. I wasn't saying that I _didn't_ want to get on _that_ package, but when she opened her fucking _mouth_ it was just a train of bull…I wished more girls were like Kagome. Accepting, and shit. You didn't really get that. Kagome was one in a diamond dozen and I was determined not to let that go…no matter _which_ fag wanted to get in the way.

The next song was a song by Ciara or something, so I turned the station. Girl singers usually freaked me out. Girls in general freaked me out. Maybe that was normal.

>>>>>>>

"We're too much alike," she breathed into the phone, warmly. She had this tone- gentle and pretty and warm, a tone I couldn't escape. Girls were like that to me. Pretty and warm. Spiderwebs. Or something (again, I am the _king_ of metaphors- I am fucking _genius_) (watch me get struck by lightning later for saying that- I _bet_ that would happen- all the horrible shit _always_ happened to me) (but I digress). "We're both too hot-headed. Did you know, you're an Aries and I'm a Sagittarius? That's why we're always fighting."

"Yeah," I answered, "I guess." I really couldn't say anything back when she said stuff like that. What _could_ I say? Whip out the zodiac analysis book that I just _happened_ to have and read wonderful cream puff stuff from that? Not. I rolled over on my side and stared at a pen on my bedside table.

There was an awkward pause. "You know, Yasha, you're the best to me," she said, again with the tone. It was sort of breathy and hot but static-y from the telephone. She started to sound worried. "I mean, no matter _how_ much of a wiener you are to me." She laughed.

"Can it," I snapped, clicking the pen repeatedly, only not awkward when I was being mean. Hey, but that was just me. I clicked the pen off and on and then threw it at my closet. "Listen, I gotta go do- homework."

"Really? Dummy- why can't you ever just stay on the phone!" she snapped, demanding an answer.

"Oh, well, maybe, just _maybe_, I've got a _life_," I snapped back.

"Oh, you big dumb- wait 'till I see you next-" She interrupted herself with laughter. "Oh, whatever. But you owe me a phone call!"

"Alright, woman! Jeez, do you ever stop _talking_!" I snapped, being a jerk as usual. I'm glad I never change from the usual naturally glorious championesque me. "I gotta go. Bye."

"Alright, then- bye- have a good day," she answered.

"Yeah. Bye." I hung up the phone and lay on my back. I was ten _times_ closer to Kagome than I was to Jakotsu. But something was drawing me away from her…

>>>>>>>

Five minutes of doing nothing later and I was getting b-o-r-e-d. Luckily, I got a phone call just then.

I knew who it was from- it was like second nature to me, to pick up the damn phone when he called. "Uh-huh?" I greeted, with a raised eyebrow and a bored, suspicious tone.

"Yash?" said the squeaky, girly voice from the other end. Yup. Jakotsu.

"_How_ did I know _you_ were calling me," I asked myself, shaking a snow globe on the bedside table. At least I wouldn't be throwing it against the closet later.

"Beeeeecause you love me, and you expect me to talk to you, like, twenty-four-seven," he answered, dragging it out in one of those Jakotsu-is-really-cute _delusional_ spells he went through. He clicked his tongue. I could hear the sound of things crashing together in the background- dishes? I'd slit my own _throat_ if _Jakotsu Himekawa_ was washing _dishes_. I listened in.

"Because you're, oh, let's see, _predictable_," I answered, rolling my eyes and propping myself up on the wooden bed back. Might as well be _comfortable_, if I was going to talk to that weirdo. I flipped on the radio- that cheesy black song was playing- _Love Will Save The Day_ by that woman, Des'Ree, was her name (shut up- don't even fucking _ask_ me how I know her name, unless you want a swift kick in the teeth or a quick death). Fag music. Light music. Suitable for Jakotsu, at least.

"Hey! I am _not_ predictable!" he exclaimed, sounded clearly offended. I heard the sound of a dish smash as he said this. Fucking retard. "Oh- uhmmm- whoops- hee hee. Haha. I just broke something- hold on- owch! Eeee."

"What the Hell are you doing, exactly?" I asked, raising an eyebrow again. If he was washing dishes, it would be the end of the world…

"Washing dishes," he answered, with this jaunty tone that said he was _immensely_ proud of himself. "I'd make a good housemate, huh, Yash?"

"Sure," I answered, caustically, "I mean, if you're living with bunch of circus freaks. Or the Manson family." I shook the snow globe more and sighed. Fucking freak. Fucking _frustrating_ freak.

"That's funny," he said, half-distractedly, as the sound of the water went on again, as if he didn't really _think_ it was funny- just being polite, whatever _that_ word meant for Jakotsu Himekawa, anyway. "Did you know that Charlie Manson gets out in 2007? Anyway, I am _not_ predictable. I am wonderful. Anyway, how's _yooour_ day going, Yasha?"

"None of your business," I said, looking at my hands, extended to the ceiling, "Why are _you_ washing dishes?"

"Because I want to- why not?" he asked.

"Forget it," I answered.

"You sound P.O.'d," he said, like a know-it-all.

"Well, _you're_ calling me," I said, defensively.

"Girl trouble?" he answered, with a smart people laugh that totally did _not_ suit him.

I shot up to a sitting position. "Are you fucking _watching_ me from my window?" I asked, looking around. Knowing Jakotsu, I would _not_ be surprised. "I want to know- are you really _that_ much of a fucking _freak_?"

"You're mean," he said, with a pouty tone. But soon he perked up. "Anyway, nah, I just know. Mind telling mama?"

"_Who_?" I snorted, raising an eyebrow.

"It's a Janis Joplin song," he said. He laughed. "Maybe it's like Wes says- maybe you just don't know anything at all about music. Is that true, Yash? Maybe I should talk to _Wes_ more from now one." His tone was annoying- teasing- mean. Fucking jerk. He laughed again, high-pitched and maniacal, rising and just fucking in hysterical _stitches_ when seeing other people's embarrassment. Retard. He really needed a good slap in the face sometimes…

"Wes doesn't know diddly-squat," I answered, snapped, matter-of-factly, "And why, pray tell, do you wanna know about _my_ love life?" An Elvis Presley remix played onto the speakers, but I wasn't paying attention at the moment.

"Because I'm part of it, Yash! O'course," he exclaimed happily.

"YEAH RIGHT!" I yelled into the mouthpiece.

He laughed again. "Oh, you're too much, Yasha- well, go on, tell me about it- I am all ears! And a bit more, if ya know what I mean." He laughed again, probably _grinning_ from ear to ear at my frustration and pain.

"Whatever- you jerk," I answered, propping myself up on newly fluffed pillows.

"I'm not a jerk," he whined, "I'm just honest. Well, go on! Tell me, before I get bored!" He was snapping at me- _that_ was new.

"Whatever," I grumbled again, rolling my eyes, fixing the pillows behind my back, getting ready to tell him, the Saint Midoriko Slut, _all about_ my love troubles. He was- so oblivious. I mean…it sort of hurt, to see him all like that. I felt bad for him- so fucking _blind_ and _happy_, _senseless, _when hurt was waiting right around the bend. I don't know why I didn't tell him then- maybe I was…maybe I figured it wasn't any of my business. Maybe I was uncomfortable. Well, I didn't tell him- instead I flipped the station. The trumpets of _Penny Lane_ were playing, and the conversation was just about to begin- themed music for conversations with Jakotsu, blindly happy, somewhat strange, and always interesting. I went on talking and, - surprisingly, he listened. A laugh here, a joke there, a snide comment thrown around- but it was just another conversation, just another Day In The Life.

>>>>>>>

_A/N_: Alright. Songs (that I can remember at the moment).

_Imagination_- The Cranberries

_Given To Fly_- Pearl Jam

_Crash_- The Dave Matthews Band

_Something by Jay_-Z

_No Rain_- Blind Melon

_Penny Lane_- The Beatles

_A Day In The Life_- The Beatles

_Love Will Save the Day_- Des'Ree

_A Little Less Conversation (Remix)_- Elvis Presley


End file.
